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DENHAM    SAVED   FROM    THE    SHARK. 


A  TALE  OF  THE 


SHORE  AND  OCEAN; 


OR, 


THE    HEIR    OF    KILFINNAN. 


WILLIAM  H.  G.  KINGSTON, 

AUTHOR  OF  "HENDRICKS  THE  HUNTER,"  "DICK  CHEVELEV,"  "THE  TWO 
SUPERCARGOES,"  ETC.,  ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED. 


NEW  YORK: 

A.    C.    ARMSTRONG    &    SON, 

714  BROADWAY. 

1881. 


STACK  ANfiOC 


ft 


PREFACE. 


THE  following  tale  contains  materials  for  a  full-sized  novel, 
but  my  readers  probably  will  not  object  to  have  them  con- 
densed into  a  single  modest  volume. 

The  scene  of  a  considerable  portion  of  the  story  is  laid 
on  the  coast  of  Ireland,  where  the  peasantry  mostly  speak 
the  native  Irish,  and  I  have  therefore  translated  what  my 
characters  say  into  ordinary  English  rather  than  into  the 
generally  received  brogue,  which  would  be,  coming  from 
their  lips,  as  inappropriate  as  Spanish  or  Dutch. 

When  English  is  spoken,  it  sounds  somewhat  highflown, 
but  is  certainly  purer  than  the  language  of  the  same  class 
in  England.  Thus,  my  hero  talks  more  like  a  well-edu- 
cated young  gentleman  than  a  humble  fisher  lad.  If  that 
is  considered  a  defect,  I  hope  that  it  may  be  redeemed  by 
the  stirring  incidents  with  which  the  tale  abounds,  and 
that  old  and  young  may  alike  find  as  much  amusement  as 
they  expect  in  its  perusal. 

W.  H.  G.  K. 


A  TALE  OF  THE  SHORE  AND  OCEAN. 

CHAPTER  I. 

r  I  ^HE  west  coast  of  Ireland  presents  scenery  of 
the  most  beautiful  and  romantic  character. 
Here  grey  peaks  rise  up  amidst  verdure  of  emerald 
green;  trees  of  varied  hue  come  feathering  down 
close  to  the  water;  yellow  sands  line  the  shores  of 
many  lonely  bays;  dark  rocks  of  fantastic  shape 
extend  out  into  the  ocean,  while  deep  blue  lochs 
mirror  on  their  bosoms  the  varied  forms  of  the  sur- 
rounding heights. 

On  the  south-west  part  of  the  coast  a  wide  bay 
is  to  be  found.  At  the  extreme  southern  end,  up  a 
deep  loch,  a  castle,  the  seat  of  an  ancient  family, 
reared  its  towers  high  above  the  waters.  The  bay 
came  sweeping  round  at  some  places  with  a  hard 
sandy  beach;  then,  again,  the  ground  rose,  leaving 
but  a  narrow  ledge  between  the  foot  of 'the  cliffs 
and  the  waters.  Thus  the  shore  extended  on  for 
some  distance,  forming  a  lofty  headland,  when  it 
again  sank  to  its  former  level.  A  reef  of  rocks  ran 


6  Shore  and  Ocean. 

out  a  considerable  distance  into  the  ocean,  form- 
ing a  natural  breakwater  to  the  bay.  Here  and 
there  to  the  north  were  several  deep  indenta- 
tions, in  which  fishing-boats  and  several  coasting 
craft  might  find  shelter.  In  some  of  these  little 
bays  fishermen  had  formed  their  habitations,  mostly 
out  of  the  wrecks  of  stout  ships  which  had  been 
cast  on  their  rocky  shores.  In  some  of  the  coves 
or  bays  several  huts  had  been  congregated  to- 
gether, but  a  short  distance  north  of  the  promon- 
tory which  has  been  spoken  of  stood  a  single  hut. 
It  was  strongly  built  of  ships'  timbers  and  roofed 
with  stout  planks,  kept  down  by  heavy  stones,  so 
that,  though  the  furious  blasts  which  swept  across 
the  Atlantic  blew  against  it,  it  had  hitherto  with- 
stood the  rough  shocks  to  which  it  had  been 
exposed. 

The  day  was  lovely;  not  a  cloud  dimmed  the 
blue  heavens,  while  the  sun  setting  over  the  distant 
ocean  shed  a  glow  of  light  across  the  waters, 
rippled  by  a  gentle  westerly  breeze.  Several  boats 
were  approaching  the  shore.  In  one  of  them  sat  a 
lad.  No  other  person  was  to  be  seen  on  board. 
The  dark  nets  were  piled  up  in  the  centre  of  the 
boat,  at  the  bottom  of  which  a  number  of  fish,  still 
giving  signs  of  life,  showed  that  he  had  been  suc- 
cessful in  his  calling.  Every  now  and  then  he 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  7 

looked  up  at  the  tanned  sail  to  see  that  it  drew 
properly,  and  then  would  cast  his  eye  towards  the 
shore  to  watch  the  point  to  which  he  was  steering. 
He  could  scarcely  have  numbered  twelve  summers, 
though  his  figure  was  tall  and  slight.  His  trousers 
were  rolled  up  above  the  knees,  showing  his  well- 
turned  legs  and  feet.  His  shirt  sleeves  were  treated 
in  the  same  manner,  while  the  collar  thrown  back, 
exhibited  his  broad  and  well-formed  chest.  His 
eyes  were  large  and  dark,  and  the  hue  of  his  skin 
gave  indication  that  Spanish  blood  was  flowing  in 
his  veins;  while  his  dark  locks  escaping  from  be- 
neath his  fisherman's  red  cap,  gave  a  still  more 
southern  look  to  his  well-chiseled  features.  His 
practical  knowledge  and  activity  seemed  to  have 
made  up  for  his  want  of  strength,  for  few  boys  of  his 
age  would  have  ventured  forth  to  sea  in  a  fishing- 
boat  of  that  size  by  themselves.  Another  and  a 
larger  boat  had  been  for  some  time  steering  a 
course  to  approach  him. 

"Ah!  Dermot,  me  darlin';  and  all  alone  too?" 
said  a  man  from  the  boat  which  now  overtook  him. 

"  Yes  !  my  mother  was  ill  and  unable  to  go  off, 
so  I  went  by  myself;  an'  see,  Uncle  Shane,  I  have 
had  a  good  haul  for  my  pains." 

"I  see,  boy,  an'  sure  I'm  glad  of  it,"  said  the  first 
speaker;  "but  you  are  scarcely  strong  enough  to 


8  Shore  and  Ocean. 

go  off  alone,  for  should  a  gale  spring  up  you  would 
be  unable  to  manage  that  boat  by  yourself." 

"  Och  !  an'  haven't  I  managed  her  before  now  in 
heavy  weather?"  replied  Dermot.  "But  suppose, 
Uncle  Shane,  I  was  lost,  would  you  take  care  of 
my  mother  ?  She's  not  so  strong  as  she  used  to 
be;  toil  has  worn  her  down,  working  hard  for  me 
when  I  ought  to  have  been  toiling  for  her." 

"  I  will,"  answered  Shane. 

"Will  you  swear  it,  uncle,  by  the  Holy  Virgin 
and  the  blessed  saints  ? " 

"  I  will,  Dermot,  as  I  hope  for  mercy  in  the  day 
of  trouble.  But  why  do  you  ask  that  question  ? " 

"  Because,  uncle,  as  I  was  pulling  up  my  nets  I 
slipped  and  almost  fell  overboard.  I  thought  that 
had  my  feet  been  entangled,  as  they  might  have 
been,  I  should  have  gone  down  an'  been  unable  to 
regain  the  boat.  We  none  of  us  know  what  may 
happen;  but  could  I  feel  that  my  mother  would  be 
protected  from  want,  it  would  nerve  my  arm,  and 
make  me  feel  more  ready  for  whatever  lot  may  be 
in  store  for  me." 

"  Boy,"  observed  the  elder  fisherman,  looking  at 
his  nephew,  "you  are  thoughtful  above  your  years; 
but  the  saints  will  protect  you,  and  I  will  not  for- 
get to  make  an  offering  to  St.  Nicholas,  that  he 
may  watch  over  you." 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  9 

Thus  conversing  the  old  man  and  the  lad  steered 
their  boats  towards  the  shore  side  by  side,  the  for- 
mer hauling  in  his  mainsail  somewhat  to  lessen  the 
speed  of  his  boat.  They  parted  to  the  northward 
of  the  promontory  described,  Dermot  steering  for 
the  little  cove  in  which  stood  the  solitary  hut  al- 
ready spoken  of,  while  his  uncle  continued  along 
the  shore  a  little  further  to  the  north. 

Dermot  ran  his  boat  between  two  rocks,  at  the 
end  of  which  was  a  small  sandy  beach,  where  a 
capstan  being  placed  he  was  enabled  to  haul  her 
up  out  of  the  water.  As  he  approached,  a  woman 
was  seen  descending  from  the  hut.  The  same  dark 
eyes  and  raven  hair,  though  somewhat  streaked 
with  white  in  her  case,  which  characterized  the 
boy,  was  observable  in  the  woman.  Her  figure 
was  thin  and  wiry,  giving  indication  of  the  severe 
toil  to  which  she  was  exposed.  She  was  dressed 
in  a  rough  frieze  petticoat,  with  a  dark  handker- 
chief drawn  across  her  bosom,  and  the  usual  red 
cloak  and  hood  worn  at  that  time  by  most  of  the 
peasantry  of  the  west  of  Ireland  was  thrown  over 
her  shoulders. 

"Mother!"  exclaimed  the  boy,  "see,  I  have 
done  well;  I  have  had  a  better  haul  than  we  have 
got  for  many  a  day." 

"And   maybe,    Dermot,   we   will   have   a   better 


io  Shore  and  Ocean. 

market  too,"  observed  the  woman.  "  It  is  said 
the  Earl  has  come  to  the  castle  with  many  fine 
people,  and  they  will  be  wanting  fish  to  a  cer- 
tainty. It  would  be  too  late  now  to  go,  they 
would  not  see  you;  but  to-morrow  morning,  as 
soon  as  the  sun  is  up,  you  shall  set  forth,  and  to 
be  sure  they'll  be  glad  to  buy  fish  of  my  Dermot." 
The  woman  drew  herself  up  as  she  spoke,  and 
looked  towards  the  boy  with  a  glance  of  pride, 
as  if  she  would  not  exchange  him  for  any  of  the 
highest  born  in  the  land. 

"  How  are  you,  mother?"  asked  Dermot;  "have 
all  those  aches  of  which  you  were  complaining 
gone  away  ?  Do  you  feel  strong  again  ? " 

"Yes;  the  saints  were  merciful;  I  did  not  for- 
get to  pray  to  them,  and  they  have  heard  me," 
answered  the  woman. 

With  her,  as  with  most  of  her  countrywomen, 
superstition,  if  it  had  not  altogether  taken  the 
place  of  religion,  had  been  strangely  mixed  up 
with  it;  yet  she  spoke  in  a  tone  of  simple  and 
touching  faith,  at  which  no  one  with  any  feeling 
would  have  ventured  to  sneer. 

Next  morning,  Dermot,  laden  with  the  finest  of 
his  fish  in  a  basket  at  his  back,  set  off  along  the 
shores  of  the  bay  towards  Kilfinnan  Castle.  The 
approach  to  it  was  wild  and  picturesque.  A  nar- 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  n 

row  estuary,  having  to  be  crossed  by  a  bridge, 
almost  isolated  the  castle  from  the  mainland,  for 
the  ground  on  which  the  old  fortress  stood  was 
merely  joined  to  it  by  a  rugged  and  nearly  im- 
passable ledge  of  rocks.  The  castle  itself  was  of 
considerable  size  and  strongly  built,  so  that  it  could 
well  withstand  the  gales  which,  from  time  to  time, 
circled  round  it.  Dermot  had  but  little  natural 
timidity  or  shyness;  yet  he  felt  somewhat  awed 
when,  having  missed  the  back  approach  used  by 
the  servants  of  the  establishment,  he  found  himself 
at  the  entrance-hall,  in  which  a  number  of  well- 
dressed  persons  were  assembled  on  their  way  to 
the  breakfast-room.  Some  passed  him  carelessly. 

"  Oh,  here,  papa,  is  a  fisher-boy  with  such  fine 
fish,"  said  a  young  and  fair  girl  as  she  ran  up  to 
a  tall  and  dignified  man,  who  at  that  moment 
appeared. 

"  Why,  boy,  what  brought  you  here  ?  "  asked  the 
gentleman. 

"To  sell  some  fish;  I  caught  them  myself,"  was 
Dermot's  answer.  "  They  are  fine  and  fresh.  I 
will  not  bargain  for  the  price,  as  I  feel  sure  you 
will  give  me  what  they  are  worth." 

The  gentleman  seemed  amused  at  the  boy's  com- 
posure, and  stepping  forward  looked  into  the  bas- 
ket which  Dermot  opened  to  exhibit  his  fish. 


12  Shore  and  Ocean. 

"  You  are  right,  boy.  Send  Anderson  here,"  he 
said,  turning  to  a  footman.  "  We  will  purchase 
your  fish,  and  you  may  come  whenever  you  can 
bring  others  as  fine." 

Several  ladies  of  the  party  seeing  the  Earl,  for 
the  gentleman  who  spoke  was  the  owner  of  the 
castle,  addressing  the  boy,  came  forward,  and  now, 
for  the  first  time,  remarked  his  handsome  features 
and  picturesque,  though  rough,  costume. 

The  little  girl  begged  that  the  fish  might  be 
taken  out  of  the  basket  to  be  shown  to  her,  and 
seemed  delighted  with  the  brightness  of  their  scales 
and  their  elegant  forms. 

"  Look  after  the  boy,  Anderson,  and  give  him 
some  breakfast,"  said  the  Earl,  as  the  head  cook  ap- 
peared, and  Dermot,  finding  himself  more  noticed 
than  he  was  ever  before  in  his  life,  was  conducted 
down  below  to  the  servants'  quarters.  Although 
they  were  town  servants,  and  would  certainly 
have  disdained  to  speak  to  a  mere  beggar-boy,  or 
to  a  young  country  clown,  there  was  something 
in  Dermot's  unaffected  manner  and  appearance 
which  won  their  regard,  and  they  treated  him  with 
far  more  kindness  and  attention  than  would  other- 
wise have  been  the  case. 

Highly  delighted  with  this  his  first  visit  to  the 
castle,  Dermot  returned  to  his  mother's  hut  to  give 


DERMOT,    THE    FISHER-BOY,    AS   A    MODEL. 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  13 

her  an  account  of  what  had  occurred.  That  even- 
ing she  was  sufficiently  recovered  to  accompany 
him  on  their  usual  fishing  expedition.  Again  they 
were  successful,  and  the  next  morning  Dermot  once 
more  made  his  appearance  at  the  castle.  He  was 
received  much  in  the  same  manner  as  on  the  pre- 
vious occasion.  His  fish  were  exhibited  before  be- 
ing taken  below,  and  greatly  to  his  astonishment 
a  lady  of  the  party  begged  that  he  would  stand 
where  he  was,  with  his  basket  in  his  hand,  while 
she  produced  her  sketch-book  and  made  a  portrait 
of  him.  Dermot  scarcely  understood  the  process 
that  was  going  forward,  and  was  somewhat  relieved 
when  the  breakfast  bell  sounding,  the  lady  was 
compelled  to  abandon  her  undertaking. 

"But  I  must  have  you  notwithstanding,  young 
fisher -boy,"  said  the  lady.  "  You  must  come 
back  after  breakfast  and  hold  one  of  those  fish 
in  your  hand;  I  have  only  made  the  outline,  and 
the  drawing  will  not  be  perfect  until  it  is  well 
coloured." 

"  He  does  not  understand  the  honour  that  has 
been  done  him,"  observed  an  elderly  dame  to  the 
fair  artist;  "still  he  looks  intelligent,  and  perhaps 
when  he  sees  himself  on  paper  he  will  be  better 
pleased  than  he  appears  to  be  at  present." 

Dermot   scarcely  understood  all    that  was   said, 


14  Shore  and  Ocean. 

for  though  he  spoke  English  very  fairly,  he  could 
not  comprehend  the  language  when  spoken  rapidly. 

Breakfast  being  concluded,  he  was  again  sum- 
moned to  the  hall,  and  to  his  utter  astonishment 
he  was  made  to  stand  with  the  fish  in  his  hand, 
while  the  young  lady  continued  her  sketch.  As  a 
reward  she  exhibited  it  to  him  when  it  was  finished. 
He  blushed  when  he  saw  himself,  for  she  was  no 
mean  artist,  and  she  had  done  him  ample  jus- 
tice. Indeed  he  looked  far  more  like  the  Earl's 
son  dressed  in  a  fisher-boy's  costume,  than  what 
he  really  was. 

"Could  my  mother  see  that  picture?"  he  asked 
at  length,  "I  am  sure  she  would  like  it,  she  knows 
more  about  those  things  than  I  do,  for  I  have  never 
seen  anything  of  that  sort  before." 

"What !  Have  you  never  .seen  a  picture  before  ? " 
exclaimed  the  young  lady  in  surprise,  "  nor  a  print, 
nor  a  painting  ? " 

Dermot  shook  his  head — "No,  nothing  of  the 
sort.  I  did  not  think  that  anything  so  like  life 
could  be  put  on  paper." 

"Cannot  you  read?"  asked  the  lady. 

"No,"  said  Dermot,  "I  have  no  book.  The 
priest  can  read,  but  there  are  few  people  else  in 
this  part  of  the  country  who  can  do  so." 

"  Oh  !  you  must  be  taught  to  read,   then,"  ex- 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  15 

claimed  the  young  lady.  "  It  is  a  pity  that  you 
should  be  so  ignorant.  Would  you  not  like  to 
learn  ? " 

"  Yes  !  "  said  the  boy,  looking  up,  "  and  to  draw 
such  figures  as  that.  I  should  like  to  learn  to  place 
you  on  paper.  You  would  make  a  far  more  beau- 
tiful picture  than  that  is." 

The  young  lady  smiled  at  the  boy's  unsophisti- 
cated compliment :  "Well,  if  you  will  come  to  the 
castle,  I  will  try  to  teach  you  to  read  at  all  events," 
she  answered.  "  I  should  like  such  a  pupil,  for  I 
am  sure  you  would  learn  rapidly." 

"And  I  must  help  you,  Lady  Sophy,"  'said  the 
little  girl,  who  had  been  the  first  to  draw  attention 
to  Dermot.  "  I  am  sure  I  should  teach  him  to  read 
very  quickly,  should  I  not,  little  fisher-boy  ?  You 
would  like  to  learn  of  me,  would  you  not  ? " 

"  Indeed  I  would,"  answered  Dermot,  looking  at 
her  with  an  expression  of  gratitude.  "  You  are 
very  gentle  and  kind,  but  I  would  not  learn  of  those 
who  try  to  force  me." 

"  When  will  you  begin  ? "  asked  Lady  Sophy. 

"  To-morrow.  I  long  to  gain  the  art  you  speak 
of,"  answered  the  boy  eagerly.  "The  priest  tells 
me  many  things  I  have  not  known.  Perhaps  I 
shall  be  able  to  tell  him  some  things  he  does  not 
know." 


1 6  Shore  and  Ocean. 

"  So  you  wish  to  show  this  portrait  to  your  moth- 
er?" observed  Lady  Sophy,  in  a  kind  tone.  "I 
cannot  trust  you  with  it,  but  if  you  will  tell  me  her 
name  and  where  she  lives,  we  will  ride  over  some 
day  and  pay  her  a  visit." 

"  My  mother  is  Ellen  O'Neil,  the  Widow  O'Neil, 
she  is  generally  called,  for  my  father  is  dead.  She 
is  a  kind  mother  to  me,  and  there  are  not  many 
like  her,"  answered  the  boy  with  a  proud  tone, 
showing  how  highly  he  prized  his  remaining  parent. 
"  But  our  hut  is  not  fit  for  such  noble  ladies  as  you 
are  to  enter,"  he  added,  now  gazing  round  the  hall 
and  for  the  first  time  comparing  it  with  his  own 
humble  abode.  "  It  is  but  a  fisherman's  hut,  and 
my  mother  and  I  live  there  alone.  You  could 
scarcely  indeed  ride  down  to  it  without  the  risk  of 
your  horses  falling.  If  you  will  let  me  have  the 
picture  I  will  promise  you  faithfully  that  I  will 
bring  it  back." 

"  No,  no  ! "  answered  the  young  lady,  laughing ; 

'  perhaps  your  mother  might  keep  it,  and  I  want  to 

nave  an  excuse  for  paying  her  a  visit.     So  we  will 

come,  tell  her,  and  we  shall  not  mind  how  small 

the  hut  may  be." 

Dermot  was  at  length  compelled  to  explain  where 
his  mother's  hut  was  to  be  found,  though  he  again 
warned  the  ladies  that  the  approach  to  it  was  dan- 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  17 

gerous,  and  entreated  them  to  keep  well  to  the 
right  away  from  the  sea  as  they  crossed  the  downs. 

They  promised  to  follow  his  injunction,  and  at 
length  allowed  him  to  take  his  departure.  This  he 
was  anxious  to  do,  as  he  knew  that  it  was  time  to 
put  off,  to  haul  the  nets  which  had  been  laid  down 
in  the  morning. 

Day  after  day,  while  the  fine  weather  lasted  and 
fish  were  to  be  procured,  Dermot  paid  a  visit  to 
the  castle,  and  each  morning  after  breakfast  was 
over,  the  young  ladies  insisted  on  giving  him  his 
reading  lesson.  He  made  rapid  progress,  and  after 
a  few  days,  they  gave  him  a  book  that  he  might 
take  home  and  study  by  himself. 

Hitherto  Lady  Sophy  and  her  friends  at  the  cas- 
tle, had  not  paid  their  promised  visit  to  the  fisher- 
man's cottage.  At  length,  however,  one  evening 
just  as  Dermot  and  his  mother  had  landed,  they 
heard  voices  on  the  downs  above  their  hut,  and 
looking  up  Dermot  espied  the  party  from  the  cas- 
tle. They  were  standing  irresolute  what  path  to 
take.  He  instantly  climbed  up  the  cliff  by  a  path- 
way which  speedily  placed  him  by  their  side.  He 
begged  them  to  dismount,  and  undertook  to  con- 
duct Lady  Sophy  and  the  little  girl,  whom  he  heard 
addressed  as  Lady  Nora,  down  to  the  hut. 

"  I  have  brought  the  drawing  as  I  promised,"  said 


1 8  Shore  and  Ocean. 

Lady  Sophy,  taking  a  portfolio  from  the  groom  who 
held  their  horses.  "  I  will  show  it  to  your  mother, 
and  perhaps  she  will  let  me  take  hers  also." 

There  were  other  ladies  and  several  gentlemen, 
and  they  expressed  an  intention  of  coming  also 
down  to  the  hut.  Lady  Sophy  guessed  that  this 
would  not  be  pleasant  to  the  boy's  mother,  and 
begged  them  to  continue  their  ride  along  the 
downs,  promising  in  a  short  time  to  rejoin  them. 
Dermot  was  greatly  relieved,  for  he  knew  his  moth- 
er would  be  much  annoyed  at  having  so  many  vis- 
itors; at  the  same  time  he  felt  equally  sure  she 
would  be  pleased  at  seeing  the  two  young  ladies. 

Widow  O'Neil  had  just  reached  her  hut  with 
a  basket  of  fish  on  her  shoulders.  As  the  young 
ladies  entered,  conducted  by  Dermot,  she  placed 
two  three-legged  stools  and  begged  them  to  be 
seated,  for  there  was  no  chair  in  the  hut. 

"  You  have  come  to  honour  an  old  fish-wife  with 
a  visit,  ladies,"  she  said;  "you  are  welcome.  If  I 
2:ved  in  a  palace  you  would  be  more  welcome  still. 
My  boy  has  told  me  of  your  kindness  to  him.  A 
mother's  heart  is  grateful.  I  can  give  nothing  in 
return,  but  again  I  say,  you  are  welcome." 

"We  came  to  show  you  a  drawing  I  made  of 
him,"  said  Lady  Sophy.  "  Here,  see,  do  you  think 
it  like  him  ? " 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  19 

"  Oh  !  like  him  !  "  exclaimed  the  widow,  lifting 
up  her  hands;  "indeed,  like  him,  and  far  more 
like  him  who  has  gone — his  father — whose  grave 
lies  off  there  in  the  cold  dark  sea.  I  would  that 
I  could  possess  that  drawing,  I  should  prize  it 
more  than  pearls  !  " 

"  I  will  make  you  a  copy,"  said  Lady  Sophy,""  on 
one  condition,  that  you  allow  me  to  make  a  draw- 
ing of  yourself." 

"  Of  me  !  of  the  old  fish-wife  ? "  exclaimed  the 
astonished  widow.  "There  is  little  that  would 
repay  you  for  doing  that,  lady  ! " 

The  young  lady  smiled  as  she  gazed  at  the  pic- 
turesque costume  and  the  still  handsome  features 
of  the  woman,  although  the  signs  of  age  had  al- 
ready come  upon  them.  Her  eyes  were  usually 
bright,  but  her  cheek  and  mouth  had  fallen  in, 
and  her  figure  having  lost  all  the  roundness  of 
youth,  was  thin  and  wiry. 

"  Oh  yes,  you  would  make  a  beautiful  picture," 
exclaimed  the  young  lady,  looking  at  her  with 
the  enthusiasm  of  an  artist.  "  Do  sit  still  on  that 
cask  for  a  time  with  a  basket  of  fish  at  your  feet. 
You  must  let  me  draw  you  thus.  Remember,  if 
you  will  not,  I  cannot  promise  to  make  a  copy 
of  your  son's  likeness  for  you." 

"  As   you   will,    ladies,"   answered    the    fish-wife. 


2O  Shore  and  Ocean. 

"The  bribe  you  offer  is  great.  As  for  me,  it  mat- 
ters little  what  you  make  of  me.  You  are  likely 
to  give  me  qualities  I  do  not  possess." 

Although  she  used  appropriate  terms,  she  spoke 
the  English  with  some  difficulty.  It  was  unusual 
for  any  of  the  peasantry  of  that  part  of  the  coast 
in  those  days  to  speak  English,  and  how  she  had 
acquired  a  knowledge  of  the  language,  and  had 
been  able  to  impart  it  to  her  son,  it  was  difficult 
to  say.  Perhaps  her  husband  might  have  spoken 
it,  or  her  younger  days  might  have  been  passed 
in  some  distant  part  of  the  country,  and  yet  she 
had  the  characteristic  features  of  the  people  in  the 
south-west  of  Ireland,  many  of  whom  are  descended 
from  Spanish  settlers,  who  had  crossed  over  in 
ancient  days  from  the  coast  of  Spain. 

Dermot  stood  by  Lady  Nora's  side,  watching  with 
looks  of  astonishment  the  progress  made  by  Lady 
Sophy's  pencil.  He  hastened  to  bring  her  a  cup  of 
water  that  she  asked  for,  to  moisten  her  colours; 
still  greater  was  his  surprise  when  he  saw  the  tints 
thrown  in  and  gradually  a  very  perfect  portrait  pro- 
duced of  his  mother. 

He  clapped  his  hands  with  delight.  "It's  her, 
it's  her,"  he  exclaimed;  "  I  wish  that  thus  she  could 
always  be.  Oh,  lady,  if  you  give  my  mother  a  like- 
ness of  me,  I  must  ask  you  to  give  me  a  copy  of 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  21 

that  portrait.  It's  beautiful;  it's  like  her  in  every 
respect.  If  I  were  away  from  her,  I  should  think  it 
could  speak  to  me." 

"Away  from  her,"  said  the  woman,  looking  up 
and  speaking  to  herself.  "  Oh,  that  so  dark  a  day 
should  ever  arrive,  and  yet  am  I  to  keep  him  always 
by  me,  perhaps  to  share  the  fate  of  his  father." 

The  words  scarcely  reached  the  ears  of  those  in 
the  hut. 

At  length  Dermot  obtained  a  promise  from  Lady 
Sophy  that  she  would  give  him  a  copy  of  the  por- 
trait she  had  just  taken.  He  now  accompanied  her 
and  her  young  companion  to  the  spot  where  they 
had  left  their  horses. 

"  You  must  promise  to  come  to-morrow,  Der- 
mot," said  the  Lady  Sophy;  "  we  wish  to  push  you 
on  with  your  lessons,  for  we  shall  not  be  here  much 
longer,  and  we  probably  shall  not  return  until  next 
year." 


CHAPTER  II. 

promised  Lady  Sophy  to  read  all  the 
books  she  had  given  him.  When  they  left 
his  mother's  hut  he  begged  leave  to  accompany  her 
and  Lady  Nora,  in  order  that  he  might  see  them 
across  the  downs.  He  had  discovered  during  his 
visits  to  the  castle  that  the  young  Lady  Nora  was 
the  Earl  of  Kilfinnan's  only  daughter.  He  had  a 
son  also;  a  noble  little  boy  he  had  heard.  He  was 
away  at  school  in  England;  his  father  being  fully 
conscious  that  an  Irish  castle  in  those  days  was 
not  a  place  favourable  to  education.  The  Earl  had 
a  great  affection  for  his  boy,  the  heir  to  his  title  and 
estates.  The  former,  indeed,  should  the  young 
Lord  Fitz  Barry  die  without  male  descendants, 
would  pass  away,  though  the  Lady  Nora  would 
inherit  the  chief  part  of  his  estate. 

Lady  Sophy  was  a  relation  of  his  late  wife's,  for 
he  was  a  widower,  and  she  remained  with  him  as  a 
companion  to  his  young  daughter,  though  consider- 
ably older  than  she  was.  The  rest  of  the  persons 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  23 

seen  at  the  castle  were  guests,  with  the  exception 
of  a  lady  of  middle  age,  a  Mrs.  Rollings,  who  acted 
as  governess  and  chaperone  to  the  young  ladies. 

Dermot  continued  his  visits  to  the  castle.  Some- 
times the  Earl  saw  him,  and  seemed  amused  at  the 
interest  taken  in  him  by  his  young  niece  and  daugh- 
ter. He  observed  also,  that  the  boy  was  somewhat 
out  of  the  common  way,  and  he  suggested  that  after 
they  had  left  the  west  of  Ireland,  he  should  be  sent 
to  obtain  instruction  from  a  neighbouring  clergy- 
man, a  friend  of  his,  and  the  only  person  capable  of 
imparting  it. 

At  that  time  schools  and  missions  were  not 
known  in  the  west  of  Ireland.  The  priests,  almost 
as  ignorant  as  their  flocks,  had  unbounded  sway 
among  the  population.  Often  the  Protestant  cler- 
gyman was  the  only  person  for  miles  round  who 
possessed  any  education  whatever.  The  peasantry 
were  consequently  ignorant  and  superstitious  and 
easily  imposed  upon  by  any  one  who  chose  to  go 
among  them  with  that  object. 

Lady  Sophy  was  delighted  with  the  suggestion 
made  by  the  Earl,  and  insisted  on  at  once  carrying 
out  the  arrangement. 

"  Yes,  indeed  it  is  a  pity  that  so  intelligent  a  boy 
should  be  left  in  ignorance,"  remarked  the  Earl. 
"  Here  is  a  five-pound  note;  do  you  take  it  from  me 


24  Shore  and  Ocean. 

to  Mr.  Jamieson,  and  beg  that  he  will  do  his  best 
to  instil  some  knowledge  into  the  mind  of  the 
fisher-boy." 

There  was  a  dash  of  romance,  it  must  be  owned, 
in  the  Earl's  composition,  and  he  was  besides  a  kind- 
hearted  and  liberal  man.  Dermot  O'Neil  might  well 
have  considered  himself  fortunate  in  having  fallen 
among  such  friends. 

Lady  Sophy  and  Lady  Nora  instantly  set  off  to 
call  upon  Mr.  Jamieson,  whose  vicarage  was  about 
three  miles  distant  from  the  castle,  though  some- 
what nearer  to  Dermot's  abode.  The  clergyman 
was  rather  amused  at  first  with  the  account  given 
him  by  the  young  ladies.  He  promised,  however, 
to  follow  out  the  Earl's  wishes,  and  begged  that 
Dermot  might  come  to  him  directly  they  left  the 
country ;  "  And  I  shall  be  ready  to  undertake  his 
education  at  once,  Lady  Sophy,"  he  said. 

"No,  no!"  was  the  answer;  "we  cannot  give 
him  up  yet;  it  is  quite  a  pleasure  teaching  him.  He 
already  reads  English  with  tolerable  fluency,  though 
we  have  not  attempted  yet  to  teach  him  to  write. 
We  must  leave  that  to  you." 

Dermot,  with  a  grief  he  had  not  expected  to  feel, 
saw  the  party  take  their  departure  from  the  castle. 
The  young  ladies  kindly  nodded  to  him  as  their 
carriage  rolled  past  the  spot  where  he  stood. 


The  Heir  of  Kil finnan,  25 

"  There's  a  bright  light  gone  from  amongst  us," 
he  said  to  himself.  "  Did  I  ever  before  dream  that 
such  creatures  existed  on  earth." 

He  returned  to  his  home  in  a  mood  totally  strange 
to  him.  His  mother,  however,  had  reason  to  con- 
gratulate herself  on  the  Earl's  visit,  for  it  enabled 
her,  from  the  payment  she  received  for  her  fish,  to 
provide  in  a  way  she  had  never  before  done  for  the 
coming  winter.  This  made  her  the  more  willingly 
consent  that  Dermot  should  go  over  every  day  to 
obtain  instruction  from  Mr.  Jamieson,  the  good 
clergyman,  who  was  so  pleased  with  the  fisher-boy, 
that  he  took  particular  pains  in  instructing  him,  and 
not  only  was  Dermot  in  a  short  time  able  to  read 
any  book  that  was  put  into  his  hands,  but  he  also 
learned  to  write  with  considerable  ease.  His  mind 
naturally  expanded  with  the  books  given  him  to 
study,  and  as  he  obtained  information,  he  became 
greedy  for  more. 

Although  Mr.  Jamieson  had  at  first  only  in- 
tended teaching  him  the  simple  rudiments  of  read- 
ing and  writing,  he  became  so  interested  in  the 
progress  made  by  his  pupil,  that  he  felt  desirous  of 
imparting  all  the  knowledge  Dermot  was  capable 
of  acquiring. 

Thus  the  winter  passed  away.  Dermot,  in  spite 
of  wind  and  rain,  or  sleet  or  cold,  persevered  in  his 


26  Shore  and  Ocean. 

visits  to  the  vicarage.  He  gained  also  an  acquaint- 
ance with  religious  truth,  of  which  before  he  had 
been  profoundly  ignorant.  It  was  not  very  per- 
fect, perhaps,  but  Mr.  Jamieson  put  the  Bible  into 
his  hands,  and  he  thus  obtained  a  knowledge  of  its 
contents  possessed  by  few  of  those  around.  Had 
the  neighbouring  parish  priest,  Father  O'Rourke, 
discovered  whither  he  was  going,  and  the  change 
that  was  constantly  taking  place  in  him,  he  would 
probably  have  endeavoured  to  interfere,  and  pre- 
vent him  from  paying  his  visits  to  the  Protestant 
clergyman.  Although  he  might  not  have  hindered 
Dermot  from  doing  as  he  chose,  he  probably  would 
have  alarmed  his  mother,  who,  though  tolerably 
intelligent  was  too  completely  under  the  influence 
of  superstition  to  have  understood  clearly  the  cause 
of  the  priest's  interference.  In  a  certain  sense,  to 
Dermot's  mind,  the  advantage  he  possessed  was 
not  so  great  as  at  first  sight  might  appear.  As  he 
advanced  in  knowledge  he  became  less  and  less 
contented  with  his  lot  in  life,  or  rather  the  wish  in- 
creased that  he  might  be  able  to  raise  himself 
above  it.  By  what  means,  however,  was  this  to  be 
accomplished  ?  He  had  no  claim  upon  the  Earl, 
who,  although  wishing  that  he  might  be  taught 
reading  and  writing,  had  not  the  slightest  intention 
of  raising  him  above  his  present  occupation.  Mr. 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  27 

Jamieson  gave  him  no  encouragement;  although 
perhaps,  the  idea  had  occurred  to  the  worthy  min- 
ister, that  the  boy  was  fitted  for  something  above 
the  mere  life  of  an  ordinary  fisherman.  Still  the 
matter  had  not  as  yet  troubled  Dermot's  mind. 
It  probably  only  occasionally  passed  through  his 
thoughts,  that  there  was  an  existence,  even  in  this 
world  something  above  that  to  which  it  appeared 
he  was  doomed.  Mr.  Jamieson  had  now  resided 
for  a  considerable  number  of  years  at  the  vicar- 
age. He  came  there  with  high  anticipations  of  the 
amount  of  good  he  was  likely  to  effect  in  that 
neighbourhood.  By  degrees,  however,  he  found 
that  his  efforts  to  raise  the  people  out  of  the  state 
of  ignorance  in  which  they  had  been  brought  up 
were  likely  to  prove  abortive.  The  parish  priest 
did  not  indeed  offer  him  any  open  opposition,  but 
he  set  an  under  current  to  work,  which  silently, 
though  effectually -nullified  all  the  vicar's  efforts. 
Not  one  proselyte  had  he  made,  and  at  length  he 
abandoned  his  previous  intentions  in  despair  of 
success,  and  consoled  himself  with  the  thought  that 
at  least  he  would  perform  thoroughly  all  the  duties 
of  his  station.  To  such  a  conclusion  many  persons 
in  his  position  have  arrived,  whether  rightly  or 
wrongly  it  need  not  here  be  said.  Mr.  Jamieson 
had  an  only  niece,  who  had  of  late  years  come  to 


28  Shore  and  Ocean. 

reside  with  him.  She  was  no  longer  very  young 
but  was  a  gentle,  quiet  woman,  whose  great  desire 
was  to  do  any  good  to  her  fellow-creatures  which 
lay  in  her  power. 

Miss  O'Reilly  had  been  for  some  time  aware  that 
a  severe  affliction  was  about  to  overtake  her. 
When  she  first  arrived  at  the  vicarage,  she  used  to 
go  among  the  neighbouring  peasantry,  carrying  a 
basket  to  relieve  the  sick  or  starving,  or  to  admin- 
ister such  comfort  as  she  was  able.  She  enjoyed 
the  beautiful  scenery  by  which  she  was  surrounded. 
Now,  however,  she  found  that  when  she  took  a 
book  the  letters  were  dim  and  indistinct,  while  all 
distant  scenes  were  shut  out  from  her  view,  as  if  a 
thick  mist  hung  over  them.  Blindness  she  felt  was 
coming  on.  A  journey  to  Dublin  was  in  those  days 
a  long  and  tedious,  if  not  somewhat  dangerous  un- 
dertaking. Still,  at  her  uncle's  desire,  accompanied 
by  him,  she  performed  it.  But  no  hope  was  given 
by  the  oculist  whom  she  consulted,  and  she  re- 
turned home  with  the  knowledge  that  in  a  short 
time  she  would  require  some  one  to  lead  her  by  the 
hand  whenever  she  might  wish  to  move  from  the 
immediate  neighbourhood  of  the  house. 

Dermot  had  made  frequent  visits  to  the  vicarage 
before  Miss  O'Reilly  was  aware  who  he  was.  One 
day  he  met  her  while  she  was  trying  to  find  her 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  29 

way  a  short  distance  from  the  house.  He  had  seen 
her  and  knew  who  she  was.  Seeing  her  in  doubt  as 
to  the  path  she  was  to  take,  he,  with  the  native 
gallantry  of  the  Irish,  sprang  forward  and  begged 
that  he  might  be  allowed  to  lead  her. 

"And  who  are  you,  boy?"  she  asked.  "What 
brings  you  to  the  vicarage  ? " 

Dermot  told  her  his  short  history. 

"You  are  then  a  pupil  of  my  uncle's?" 

"Yes,  his  reverence  has  been  teaching  me,  and  I 
love  to  learn  from  him,"  answered  Dermot. 

This  led  to  further  conversation,  and  Dermot 
told  her  of  his  mother,  who  lived  down  in  the  little 
cottage  in  Blackwater  cove. 

"  And  have  you  any  brothers,  sisters,  or  rela- 
tions ?"  she  asked." 

"  Except  Uncle  Shane,  none  that  I  know  of,"  said 
Dermot. 

"Your  mother,  then,  lives  all  alone." 

"  Yes,  since  my  father's  death,  twelve  years  ago, 
she  has  lived  by  herself,  with  me  alone  to  take  care 
of,  in  her  little  hut." 

"  And  you  never  wish  to  leave  your  home,  and 
go  and  see  the  great  world  ? "  asked  Miss  O'Reilly. 
Why  she  put  the  question  it  was  difficult  to  say. 
It  might  not  have  been  a  very  judicious  one,  as  far 
as  the  boy  was  concerned,  and  yet  it  was  but  nat- 


30  Shore  and  Ocean. 

ural  to  suppose  that  a  boy  of  Dermot's  character 
would  wish  to  go  forth  into  the  great  world,  that 
he  might  inspect  its  wonders. 

"  It  may  be,  lady;  I  may  have  wished  to  go  and 
see  the  world,  though  not  to  leave  my  mother;  for 
who  would  care  for  her  if  I  was  gone  ?  Uncle 
Shane  would,  but  he  is  old  and  couldn't  protect  her 
for  long.  Besides  you  know  that  not  a  year  passes 
but  that  some  of  the  men  on  our  coast  lose  their 
lives." 

"And  does  your  mother  know  the  truth?  Can 
she  read  the  Bible,  boy  ? "  asked  Miss  O'Reilly. 

"No,  she  cannot  read  the  Bible,  but  the  priest 
takes  care  that  she  should  know  what  he  believes 
to  be  the  truth,  I  am  sure."- 

"  Your  mother  loves  you  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  indeed  she  does,"  answered  Dermot;  "she 
would  spill  her  heart's  blood  for  my  sake,  though 
she  often  sits  melancholy  and  sad  when  alone, 
yet  the  moment  I  return,  her  eye  brightens,  and 
she  opens  her  arms  to  receive  me.  Yes,  lady, 
my  mother  does  love  me,  that  I  know." 

"  I  should  like  to  come  and  talk  to  your  mother," 
said  the  blind  lady.  "Will  you  lead  me  to  her 
some  day  ?  I  should  not  be  afraid  to  descend  the 
cliff  with  so  strong  an  arm  as  yours  to  rest  on." 

A  few  days  after  this,  Dermot  having  finished  his 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  31 

lesson  with  the  vicar,  met  Miss  O'Reilly  close  to 
the  house,  and  expressed  his  readiness  to  take  her 
to  his  mother's  cottage,  the  sea  at  the  time  hap- 
pening to  be  far  too  rough  to  allow  their  boat  to 
go  forth  to  fish. 

"I  am  ready  to  go  with  you,"  said  the  blind 
lady;  "but  remember  you  must  lead  me  all  the 
way  back,  Dermot." 

"That  will  just  double  the  honour,  lady,"  was  the 
young  Irishman's  reply.  Dermot  talked  much  of 
his  mother  to  the  blind  lady,  as  he  led  her  down 
to  the  cottage. 

The  widow's  voice  pleased  Miss  O'Reilly,  and  all 
she  said  increased  the  interest  she  was  inclined  to 
take  in  her.  Perhaps  more  than  all,  was  that  deep 
love  which  she  felt  for  her  only  boy,  and  which  had 
become,  as  it  were,  part  of  her  being. 

Dermot  carefully  conducted  Miss  O'Reilly  back 
to  the  vicarage,  and  this  was  the  first  of  many 
visits  which  she  afterwards  paid  to  the  fish-wife's 
hut. 

Dermot  was  never  idle.  He  had  no  associates; 
indeed  from  his  earliest  days  he  had  kept  aloof 
from  boys  of  his  own  age.  It  was  not  that  he 
was  morose,  or  proud  or  ill-tempered,  but  he  ap- 
peared to  have  no  sympathy  with  them,  and  thus, 
though  possessed  of  many  qualities  which  would 


32  Shore  and  Ocean. 

have  won  him  friends,  he  had  not  a  single  friend 
of  his  own  rank  or  age  in  the  neighbourhood. 
Whenever  he  was  not  out  fishing,  he  was  engaged 
with  his  book,  either  at  the  vicarage  or  at  home. 

He  was  thus  employed  one  afternoon  in  his 
mother's  hut,  when  Father  O'Rourke,  the  parish 
priest,  made  his  appearance1  at  the  door. 

"  Come  in,  your  reverence,"  said  the  widow,  plac- 
ing a  stool  for  him  near  the  hearth;  "it  is  a  long 
day  since  your  reverence  has  been  seen  down  the 

» 

cove." 

"  Maybe  you  haven't  seen  me  often  enough," 
said  Father  O'Rourke,  a  stout  broad-faced  man, 
with  a  countenance  of  the  ordinary  low  Irish  type. 
"  How  is  it  that  Dermot  there  has  so  many  books  ? 
Ah  !  I  have  heard  about  his  doings;  he  often  goes 
up,  I  am  told,  to  the  Protestant  minister's.  What 
good  can  he  get  by  going  there  ? " 

."Much  good,  your  reverence,"  observed  Dermot; 
"  I  have  been  learning  to  read  and  write,  and  gain 
other  knowledge  such  as  I  had  no  other  means  of 
obtaining." 

"  Such  knowledge  may  be  bad  for  one  like  you," 
said  Father  O'Rourke;  "there  is  no  good  can  come 
from  the  place  where  you  go  to  get  it." 

"  Pardon  me,  Father  O'Rourke,"  said  Dermot, 
with  spirit;  "the  knowledge  I  get  there  is  good, 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan,  33 

and  the  gentleman  who  gives  it  is  kind  and  good 
too.     I  will  not  hear  him  spoken  against." 

"  What,  lad  !  do  you  dare  to  speak  to  me  in 
that  way  ? "  exclaimed  the  priest.  "  You  will  be 
going  over  to  the  Protestants,  and  then  the  curse 
of  St.  Patrick  and  all  the  holy  saints  will  rest 
upon  you, — you  too,  who  are  born  to  be  a  priest 
of  the  holy  faith.  Look;  you  were  marked  before 
you  came  into  the  world  with  the  emblem  of  our 
faith,  and  if  your  mother  had  followed  the  wishes 
of  her  true  friends,  you  would  even  now  be  train- 
ing for  the  priesthood,  instead  of  being  a  poor 
fisher-boy,  as  you  now  must  be  for  ever,  and  noth- 
ing more."  The  priest  as  he  spoke  seized  Dermot's 
hand,  and  bared  his  arm  to  the  shoulder.  There, 
curiously  enough,  above  the  elbow,  was  a  red 
mark  which  might  easily  have  been  defined  as  a 
cross. 

The  boy  drew  away  his  hand  indignantly:  "I  tell 
you,  Father  O'Rourke,  I  am  as  true  a  son  of  the 
Holy  Church  as  ever  I  was.  Mr.  Jamieson  is  no 
bigot;  he  gives  me  instruction,  but  does  not  ask 
me  to  turn  to  his  faith,  and  yet,  Father  O'Rourke, 
I  tell  you,  to  my  mind  it  is  a  pure  and  holy  faith, 
whatever  you  may  say  to  the  contrary." 

The  boy  spoke  boldly  and  proudly,  as  he  again 
drew  down  the  sleeve  of  his  shirt. 
3 


34  Shore  and  Ocean. 

Many  years  before,  when  the  red  mark  on  Der- 
mot's  arm  had  first  been  seen  by  the  neighbours, 
it  was  suggested  that  it  was  evidently  placed  there 
as  a  sign  from  heaven  that  he  should  become  a 
priest,  and  that  in  all  probability  he  would  rise  to 
be  a  bishop,  if  not  a  cardinal.  When,  however, 
Dermot  grew  a  little  older,  and  the  idea  was  sug- 
gested to  him,  he  indignantly  refused  to  accept 
the  offers  made  him.  In  the  first  place,  nothing 
would  induce  him  to  leave  his  mother,  and  in  the 
second,  he  had  no  ambition  to  become  like  Father 
O'Rourke,  for  whom  it  must  be  confessed,  that  at 
a  very  early  age  the  boy  had  entertained  a  con- 
siderable antipathy.  Even  with  the  widow,  though 
she  was  ignorant  and  superstitious,  Father  O'Rourke 
had  never  been  a  favourite;  still  when  she  could  get 
so  far  as  the  chapel,  she  went  to  hear  mass,  and 
attended  confession,  as  did  her  neighbours.  The 
feeling  which  governed  her  was  fear,  rather  than 
love  for  the  parish  priest.  Father  O'Rourke  was 
excessively  indignant  at  being  thus  addressed  by 
the  young  fisher-boy.  He  turned  from  him,  how- 
ever, to  his  mother,  and  began  to  pour  out  his 
abuse  on  her  head.  He  had  not  proceeded  far, 
however,  when  Dermot  again  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"Father  O'Rourke!"  he  exclaimed;  "you  may 
say  what  you  like  to  me;  you  may  curse  me,  and 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  35 

if  you  like  you  may  threaten  me  with  excommuni- 
cation even,  but  do  not  lift  up  your  tongue  against 
my  poor  old  mother.  There  are  things  a  man  can 
bear  and  some  he  ought  not  to  bear,  and  I  tell 
you,  boy  as  I  am,  I  will  not  have  her  spoken 
against.  Your  words  may  frighten  her,  and  she 
may  fancy  that  your  curses  may  fall  upon  her  head, 
but  I  tell  you  when  uttered  against  a  poor  helpless 
widow,  they  will  fall  back  on  him  who  dares  to 
speak  them.  There,  Father  O'Rourke,  I  have  had 
my  say,  and  I  defy  you." 

The  priest  had  never  before  been  spoken  to  in 
this  manner  by  one  of  his  flock,  and  he  found  no 
words  to  reply.  At  first  he  felt  inclined  to  anath- 
ematise both  the  widow  and  her  son,  but  doubts 
as  to  the  effects  it  might  produce  upon  Dermot 
restrained  him,  or  perhaps  a  better  feeling  came 
into  his  heart. 

"Very  well,  boy,  remember  I  have  warned  you," 
he  exclaimed,  "  I  have  told  you  that  by  going  to 
that  Protestant  minister,  you  may  be  led  to  turn 
heretic,  and  forsake  our  holy  faith,  and  if  you 
should,  do  not  forget  the  heavy  curses  that  will 
follow  you.  I  do  not  wish  you  ill,  nor  do  I  wish 
your  mother  ill,  but  I  cannot  stand  by  and  see  one  of 
my  flock  carried  the  downward  way  to  destruction." 

Having  thus  delivered  himself,  Father  O'Rourke 


36  Shore  and  Ocean. 

left  the  hut  and  took  the  path  up  the  steep  glen, 
which  led  inland  from  the  sea. 

Often  Dermot's  mind  reverted  to  the  days  when 
the  castle  was  inhabited,  and  he  thought  of  the 
beautiful  and  kind  ladies  he  had  seen  there,  and  of 
the  fair  little  girl  who  had  smiled  so  sweetly  when 
she  spoke  to  him.  He  felt  the  immeasurable  dis- 
tance between  them  and  him,  and  yet  he  longed  for 
their  return,  that  he  might  gaze  on  them  at  a  dis- 
tance, and  again  hear  their  voices.  He  was  gen- 
erally too  much  occupied  to  go  to  the  castle  to 
inquire  when  the  Earl  was  likely  to  return,  be- 
cause when  not  engaged  in  fishing,  he  was  con- 
stantly at  the  house  of  Mr.  Jamieson.  More  than 
once  he  had  ventured  to  ask  him  whether  he  thought 
the  Earl  was  likely  to  come  back  again,  but  the 
minister  replied  that  he  was  ignorant  of  the  Earl's 
movements,  and  had  not  heard  that  any  orders  had 
been  received  at  the  castle  to  make  preparations 
for  the  reception  of  the  family.  The  time  was  ap- 
proaching when  they  had  come  on  the  previous 
year,  and  Dermot  though  he  scarcely  acknowl- 
edged his  feelings  to  himself,  became  more  and 
more  anxious  for  their  arrival.  After  leaving  Mr. 
Jamieson,  though  the  round  was  a  long  one,  and  he 
had  to  prepare  his  nets  for  the  day's  fishing,  he 
could  not  resist  the  temptation  of  going  to  the 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  37 

castle  before  he  returned  home.  From  his  frequent 
visits  during  the  previous  summer,  he  was  not  a 
stranger  there,  and  the  housekeeper,  pleased  with 
his  good  looks  and  his  unaffected  manner,  was  not 
sorry  to  see  him. 

"Wait  a  bit,  boy,  wait  a  bit,  and  I  think  I  can 
tell  you  when  the  ladies  will  come  back  and  make 
another  likeness  of  you,"  she  said,  putting  her  hand 
on  his  head.  "  Ah  !  they  will  spoil  you  if  we  don't 
take  care,  but  do  not  be  led  away  by  them,  boy. 
They  look  upon  you,  likely  enough,  as  they  do  up- 
on a  pet  dog,  or  any  other  animal,  and  when  they 
are  away,  it  is  little  they  trouble  their  heads  about 
you." 

These  remarks  were  made  in  kindness  by  good 
Mrs.  Rafferty.  She  had  heard  all  about  the  boy, 
and  knew  very  well  that  if  it  became  the  custom  to 
have  him  up  at  the  castle,  and  to  make  much  of 
him,  as  she  thought  was  likely  to  be  the  case,  he 
would  inevitably  be  spoiled. 

"When  you  come  we  will  buy  your  fish,  no  fear 
of  that,  and  take  my  advice,  get  a  supply  of  the 
finest  you  can  by  to-morrow  or  the  day  after,  and 
maybe  when  you  come  there  will  be  mouths  enough 
at  the  castle  to  eat  them." 

"What!  are  the  family  coming  so  soon  then?" 
exclaimed  Dermot,  and  a  thrill  of  pleasure  ran 


38  Shore  and  Ocean. 

through  his  frame;  "and  the  beautiful  lady  who 
draws  so  well,  and  aft  the  others !  I  will  go  and 
catch  the  fish,  never  fear,  Mrs.  Rafferty,  and  it  will 
not  be  my  fault  if  I  don't  bring  a  basket  of  as  fine 
as  ever  were  caught  up  to  the  castle  to-morrow." 

"I  did  not  say  'to-morrow,'  boy;  I  said  the  day 
after,  and  that  will  be  time  enough." 

Mrs.  Rafferty,  to  prove  her  kind  feelings,  took  the 
boy  into  her  own  room,  and  placed  before  him  sev- 
eral articles  of  food  and  delicacies,  such  as  had 
never  before  passed  his  lips.  She  watched  him 
while  he  ate. 

"  It  is  strange  if  there's  not  gentle  blood  in  that 
boy,"  she  remarked  to  herself,  "  I  have  heard  what 
the  young  ladies  think  about  it,  and  by  the  way  he 
sits  at  table  and  eats  I  never  would  believe  that  he 
is  a  mere  fisher-boy." 

Dermot  did  not  hear  her  remarks.  Having  fin- 
ished his  repast,  he  rose  and  wishing  her  good-bye, 
hastened  home  with  the  good  news  to  his  mother. 


CHAPTER  III. 

r~IHHE  widow  and  her  son  devoted  the  next  day 
to  an  active  supervision  of  their  nets.  In 
the  evening  a  gentle  westerly  breeze,  which  had 
brought  in  their  boat  safely  to  shore,  was  still 
blowing,  and  Dermot  having  prepared  the  fish  for 
the  next  day's  market,  ascended  to  the  downs 
above  the  cottage.  As  he  gazed  over  the  ocean, 
he  saw  under  all  sail,  standing  in  for  the  shore,  a 
beautiful  ship.  She  had  royals  set,  and  studding 
sails  below  and  aloft  on  either  side.  It  was  evident 
she  wished  to  'come  to  an  anchor  before  dark,  and 
he  concluded  from  the  course  she  was  steering,  that 
she  proposed  bringing  up  in  the  bay,  a  reef  extend- 
ing out,  on  the  north  side  of  it,  affording  her  suffi- 
cient shelter  from  the  wind  then  blowing.  Dermot 
watched  the  ship  with  intense  interest.  The  masts 
seemed  so  tall,  the  canvas  so  white,  and  the  yards 
extending  so  far  on  either  side.  On  she  came  like 
a  graceful  swan,  gliding  over  the  azure  bosom  of 
the  deep,  surrounded  as  it  were  with  the  golden 


4O  Shore  and  Ocean. 

rays  of  the  setting  sun  playing  over  the  water  in 
which  she  floated.  Dermot  had  not  believed  that 
any  vessel  so  beautiful  was  to  be  found  on  the 
ocean.  She  seemed  so  graceful,  so  fairy-like.  As 
she  drew  nearer  her  sides  appeared  highly  polished, 
and  all  about  her  wore  an  air  of  perfect  order.  A 
distant  strain  of  music  reached  his  ear  from  the 
deck.  On  a  sudden  men  were  seen  swarming  up 
her  rigging.  Every  yard  was  covered.  Now  the 
studding  sails  came  in  as  if  by  magic.  The  royals 
and  the  topgallant  sails  were  handed,  the  topsails 
were  furled,  the  courses  brailed  up,  and  in  a  few 
seconds  she  was  under  bare  poles,  when  her  anchor 
was  let  go  with  a  loud  rattling  sound  in  the  securest 
part  of  the  bay,  showing  that  those  on  board  were 
well  acquainted  with  the  coast. 

As  he  looked  down  on  the  gallant  frigate,  for 
such  she  was,  Dermot's  admiration  increased  more 
and  more.  He  could  not  help  wishing  to  be  on 
board  so  fine  a  craft,  and  he  determined  to  take  the 
first  opportunity  of  visiting  her. 

On  his  return  to  the  hut,  he  told  his  mother  of 
the  arrival  of  the  frigate. 

"She  comes  as  a  friend,  I  hope,"  remarked  the 
widow;  "it  is  not  many  years  ago  that  I  have  seen 
vessels  in  this  bay,  which  came  with  very  different 
intentions." 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  41 

No  one  was  seen,  however,  to  land  from  the 
strange  frigate,  but  the  widow,  on  further  consid- 
eration, resolved  to  pay  a  visit  on  board,  in  hopes 
of  disposing  of  the  fish  they  had  just  caught,  calcu- 
lating that  a  further  supply  might  be  obtained  for 
the  castle  the  following  day. 

Dermot  was  glad  of  an  excuse  for  going  on  board: 
as  it  was  now  too  late  to  visit  her,  it  was  arranged 
that  they  should  go  off  the  first  thing  on  the  follow- 
ing morning.  Although  he  and  his  mother  could 
manage  the  boat  by  themselves,  he  did  not  know 
how  she  might  be  received  on  board;  he  therefore 
invited  his  Uncle  Shane  to  accompany  them,  ad- 
vising him  to  carry  a  supply  of  his  own  fish  for  sale. 

Early  the  next  morning  the  boat  was  alongside 
the  frigate.  The  vendors  of  fish  are  generally  wel- 
comed by  men-of-war's-men,  and  they  very  quickly 
disposed  of  all  they  possessed;  the  only  complaint 
of  the  sailors  being,  that  they  had  not  brought  off 
enough  vegetables  and  other  fresh  productions. 

Dermot  was  invited  on  board,  and  as  he  showed 
his  curiosity  in  all  he  saw,  he  was  allowed  to  go 
over  the  whole  of  the  ship.  Great  was  his  wonder 
as  he  examined  her  polished  guns,  the  decks,  white 
as  snow,  one  below  the  other,  the  ropes  on  the 
upper  deck  so  beautifully  flemished  down.  The 
men  were  at  breakfast,  between  decks.  The  tin 


42  Shore  and  Ocean. 

mess  untensils  were  spread  out  before  them.  Der- 
mot  was  shown  how  the  hammocks  were  hung  up 
at  night,  and  where  they  were  stowed  in  the  ham- 
mock nettings  in  the  daytime.  He  gazed  aloft  at 
the  symmetrical  yards  and  ropes,,  and  wondered 
at  the  perfect  order  which  reigned  around;  so  dif- 
ferent to  what  he  had  been  accustomed  to  in  the 
small  fishing-vessels  and  coasters,  the  only  craft 
with  which  he  was  acquainted. 

"Would  you  like  to  come  to  sea,  lad?"  said  a 
rough  sailor,  putting  his  hand  on  Dermot's  shoulder; 
"you  would  make  an  active  young  topman  in  a  few 
years.  There's  something  in  you,  I  see.  What  do 
you  say  ?  Will  you  ship  aboard  us  ?  I  can  answer 
for  it  you  would  get  a  berth,  for  our  captain  likes 
such  as  you." 

Dermot  was  pleased  with  the  compliment  paid 
him,  though  uttered  in  a  rough  way. 

"Ah!  if  I  had  my  heart's  wish,  I  would  do  as 
you  say,"  he  answered;  "but  there's  one  I  cannot 
leave,  and  I  do  not  think  you  would  if  you  were  in 
my  place." 

"Who's  that?"  asked  the  sailor. 

"  My  mother,  I  am  her  only  child,"  answered 
Dermot. 

"  I  ran  away  from  my  mother,  and  yet  I  was  her 
only  son,"  replied  the  sailor,  as  he  dashed  a  tear 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  43 

from  his  eye.  "  No,  boy,  I  am  not  one  to  advise 
you  to  do  as  I  did.  I  know  not  whether  she  is 
alive  or  dead,  for  never  from  that  day  to  this  have 
I  had  the  chance  of  returning  home." 

The  widow  was  highly  pleased  with  the  transac- 
tions on  board,  for  whatever  spice  of  romance  there 
was  in  her,  she  never  forgot  the  importance  of 
making  a  good  bargain  for  her  fish.  Shane  was 
delighted,  and  undertook  to  return  on  board  the 
next  day. 

Another  successful  expedition  enabled  Dermot  to 
carry  a  supply  of  fish  to  Mrs.  Rafferty  at  the  castle. 
His  modesty  induced  him  to  enter  by  the  back  way, 
and  on  asking  for  her,  after  waiting  some  time,  he 
was  told  he  might  go  and  see  her  in  her  room.  The 
good  lady  told  him  that  she  expected  the  family 
every  instant,  and  would  take  all  the  fish  he  had 
brought.  Dermot  hurried  away,  fearful  that  they 
might  arrive  while  he  was  in  the  castle,  and  that  he 
might  lose  the  opportunity  of  seeing  them.  He  sat 
himself  down  by  the  side  of  the  road  which  the  car- 
riages must  pass,  in  the  hopes  of  gaining  a  glimpse 
of  the  lady  who  had  taken  his  portrait,  as  well  as  of 
the  fair  little  girl  her  companion.  He  thought  very 
little  of  the  rest  of  the  party.  At  length,  after 
waiting  some  time  his  patience  was  rewarded  by 
seeing  the  carriages  approach.  Not  only  were  the 


44  Shore  and  Ocean. 

ladies  there,  but  they  both  saw  him,  and  Lady  Nora 
gave  a  half-nod  of  recognition,  and  then  turned  to 
her  companion,  as  if  to  speak  about  him.  Dermot 
would  gladly  have  found  any  excuse  for  returning 
to  the  castle,  but  as  this  was  impossible,  he  hurried 
home,  hoping  to  be  able  to  visit  it  the  next  day  with 
a  further  supply  of  fish.  On  his  way  he  saw  a  boat 
pulling  rapidly  from  the  frigate  towards  the  landing- 
place  under  the  castle-walls.  In  her  stern-sheets 
sat  an  officer,  who  by  the  gold  epaulets  on  his 
shoulders  and  his  cocked  hat,  he  naturally  con- 
cluded was  the  captain.  Poor  Dermot  had  very 
little  chance  after  this  of  attracting  the  attention  of 
Lady  Sophy.  The  boat  reached  the  shore,  when  the 
captain  sprang  out,  and  hurried  up  to  the  castle. 
He  was  received  with  great  courtesy  and  respect  by 
the  Earl  and  his  guests. 

"You  are  indeed  welcome,  Falkner  !  "  exclaimed 
the  Earl,  cordially  shaking  him  by  the  hand,  "we 
little  expected  having  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you. 
What  fortunate  chance  brings  you  into  our  bay  ?  " 

"We  received  information  that  there  was  some 
idea  of  a  rising  in  this  part  of  the  country,  and  I 
was  ordered  to  cruise  off  the  coast,"  answered  the 
captain  of  the  frigate.  "Hearing  also  that  you 
were  about  to  return  to  Kilfinnan  Castle,  as  it  was 
in  the  way  of  duty,  I  took  the  opportunity  of  com- 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  45 

ing  into  the  bay  to  visit  you,  and  at  the  same  time 
to  make  inquiries  as  to  the  truth  of  the  report." 

"You  are  very  welcome,  Captain  Falkner,  and 
we  are  very  happy  to  see  you,"  said  the  Earl, 
casting  a  significant  glance  towards  Lady  Sophy; 
"as  to  the  rising,  I  rather  think  the  Government 
has  been  misled;  however,  it  is  as  well  to  be  pre- 
pared, and  the  appearance  of  the  frigate  on  the 
coast  may  prevent  the  people  from  committing  any 
act  of  folly." 

"I  hope  so,  indeed,"  said  Captain  Falkner;  "for 
the  blood  of  too  many  of  the  misguided  people  has 
been  shed  already.  They  may  bring  much  misery 
and  suffering  on  themselves,  and  they  may  do  a 
great  deal  of  mischief  in  the  country,  but  while 
England's  fleet  and  England's  army  remain  faith- 
ful, their  wild  schemes  have  not  the  remotest  pros- 
pect of  success." 

"No,  indeed!"  answered  the  Earl,  in  a  some- 
what scornful  tone,  "unless  men  of  character  and 
true  bravery  were  to  lead  them,  they  will  always 
be  defeated  as  they  have  hitherto  been.  For  my 
own  part  I  have  not  the  slightest  fear  on  the 
subject.  However,  I  repeat  that  I  am  not  sorry 
that  any  excuse  should  have  brought  you  into  our 
bay." 

Captain  Falkner  after  this  received  the  welcome 


46  Shore  and  Ocean. 

of  the  rest  of  the  guests,  with  most  of  whom  he  was 
acquainted. 

Lady  Sophy  blushed  as  she  held  out  her  hand, 
and  the  gallant  captain  took  it  with  a  look  which 
showed  there  was  a  perfect  understanding  between 
them.  He  had  already  obtained  a  name  which 
gave  him  rank  among  the  bravest  of  England's 
naval  heroes.  They  before  long  found  an  excuse 
for  walking  out  together  on  a  beautiful  terrace, 
which  extended  under  the  cliffs,  beyond  the  castle 
to  the  south.  The  conversation  need  not  be  re- 
peated, it  was  very  evident,  however,  that  Captain 
Falkner  was  an  accepted  suitor  of  Lady  Sophy's, 
although  there  were  some  impediments  to  their 
immediate  union. 

He  told  her  that  he  expected  to  be  on  the  coast 
for  some  time,  for  he  still  believed,  in  spite  of  the 
Earl's  assertions,  that  there  was  a  considerable 
number  of  persons  disaffected  in  that  part  of  the 
country,  who  would  be  induced  to  rise,  should  a 
leader  make  his  appearance  among  them. 

"Although  I  may  sail  away  for  a  few  days  at  a 
time,  I  shall  constantly  be  on  the  watch,  and  the 
thought  that  you  may  be  placed  in  danger,  will  cer- 
tainly not  make  me  the  less  vigilant,"  he  observed, 
pressing  Lady  Sophy's  hand. 

"  But  suppose  you  were  to  hear  there  would  be  a 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  47 

rising  in  this  place,  and  another  at  some  distance, 
to  which  would  you  then  go  ?  "  asked  Lady  Sophy. 
"  Would  it  not  place  you  in  a  difficulty  ? " 

"  I  tell  you  frankly,  I  would  endeavour  to  forget 
in  which  place  you  were,  and  should  steer  for  the 
one  in  which  I  believed  my  services  were  most  im- 
peratively demanded." 

"  Yes,  I  am  sure  you  would  act  thus,"  she  an- 
swered, casting  on  him  a  look  of  admiration  and 
affection.  "  I  do  not  value  your  love  the  less  on 
that  account,  believe  me." 

Captain  Falkner  had  to  return  on  board  in  the 
evening,  but  promised  to  visit  the  castle  next  day. 

He  arrived  just  as  Dermot  made  his  appearance 
with  a  basket  of  fish. 

"  Oh  !  that  is  the  boy  whose  portrait  you  were 
admiring  so  much,  Captain  Falkner,"  said  Lady 
Sophy,  pointing  to  Dermot  as  he  was  passing  the 
hall-door. 

"Come  in,  boy,"  said  another  lady;  "we  wish  to 
see  if  your  portrait  has  done  you  justice." 

Dermot  entered  in  his  usual  fearless  manner,  car- 
rying his  basket  of  fish.  The  portrait  was  pro- 
duced, and  another  lady  insisted  that  he  should  re- 
main until  she  had  taken  a  sketch  of  him  for  herself. 

"  By-the-by,"  said  the  Earl,  "  have  you  got  any 
good  by  going  to  the  minister,  boy  ? " 


4-8  Shore  and  Ocean. 

"Yes,  indeed  I  have,  sir,"  said  Dermot  warmly, 
"  there  is  many  a  book  I  have  learned  to  read,  and 
though  I  found  writing  more  hard,  I  am  able  to 
copy  whatever  Mr.  Jamieson  gives  me,  and  while  he 
reads  I  can  write  after  him.  And  there  is  history 
and  geography  and  many  more  things  he  has  taught 
me." 

"Ah,  I  must  go  over  and  thank  him,"  said  the 
Earl.  "  And  do  you  wish,  boy,  to  continue  under 
his  instruction  ? " 

"  Indeed  I  do,  sir,"  answered  Dermot. 

"  Oh,  but  we  were  teaching  you,"  exclaimed 
Lady  Nora,  who  had  just  then  come  into  the  hall. 
"  You  must  come  and  let  Lady  Sophy  and  me  give 
you  lessons  as  we  did  before." 

"Indeed  I  am  honoured,  ladies,"  answered  Der- 
mot, with  an  air  which  none  but  an  Irish  boy,  even 
of  much  higher  rank,  could  have  assumed.  "  Al- 
though I  am  grateful  to  the  minister  for  all  he  has  J 
taught  me,  I  should  be  thankful  to  receive  further 
lessons  from  you." 

The  Earl  was  somewhat  amused  at  the  thoughts 
of  his  little  daughter  giving  instruction  to  the 
young  fisher-boy.  At  the  same  time,  goodna- 
tured  and  thoughtless,  he  made  not  the  slightest 
objection.  Indeed  he  never  thwarted  Nora  in  any- 
thing she  had  taken  it  into  her  head  to  wish  for, 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  49 

and  certainly  he  was  not  likely  to  do  so  in  a  mat- 
ter so  trifling  as  this. 

Dermot  appeared,  as  he  had  been  invited,  to 
receive  his  lessons,  but  was  somewhat  surprised  to 
find  that  Lady  Nora  was  scarcely  as  advanced  in 
some  branches  of  knowledge  as  himself. 

"Indeed  you  have  made  great  progress,"  said 
Lady  Sophy,  who  had  undertaken  to  be  the  chief 
instructress.  "  If  you  persevere  you  will  soon  be- 
come as  well  educated  as  most  young  gentlemen 
of  the  day.  I  am  acquainted  with  several,  indeed, 
who  don't  know  as  much  as  you  do." 

These  remarks  encouraged  Dermot  to  persevere, 
even  with  more  determination  than  before.  Every 
moment  he  could  spare  from  his  duties,  he  was 
now  engaged  in  reading. 

His  poor  mother  looked  on  with  astonishment 
that  her  boy  should  thus  become  so  learned,  and 
more  than  once  it  entered  into  her  mind  that  it 
was  a  pity  she  had  not  allowed  him  to  follow 
Father  O'Rourke's  suggestion,  and  become  a  priest. 
"  He  would  have  been  a  bishop  to  a  certainty,"  she 
exclaimed  to  herself — "  and  only  think  to  be  a 
holy  bishop,  certain  of  heaven.  What  a  great  man 
he  would  have  been  made,  a  cardinal,  and  that  he 
would  have  been,  if  His  Holiness  the  Pope  had  ever 
become  acquainted  with  him.  I  wonder  now  if  it's 


50  Shore  and  Ocean. 

too  late,  but  I'm  afraid  after  what  he  said  to  Father 
O'Rourke  that  his  Reverence  will  never  give  him 
a  helping  hand." 

Such  and  similar  thoughts  frequently  passed 
through  the  mind  of  the  poor  widow.  More  than 
once  she  ventured  to  broach  the  subject  to  her 
son,  but  he  shook  his  head  with  a  look  of  disgust. 

"  If  I  am  ever  to  be  otherwise  than  what  I  am, 
I  hope  never  to  become  like  Father  O'Rourke. 
No,  no,  mother  I  have  other  thoughts,  and  do 
not,  I  pray  you,  ever  ask  me  again  to  become  a 
priest." 

The  next  visit  Dermot  paid  to  the  castle,  he  was 
detained  longer  than  usual  by  another  lady  in- 
sisting on  taking  his  portrait.  His  feelings  rather 
rebelled  against  this.  He  had  been  flattered  when 
Lady  Sophy  had  first  taken  it,  but  he  did  not  much 
like  the  idea  of  being  made  a  figure  for  the  exer- 
cise of  other  fair  artists'  pencils,  still  his  natural 
feelings  of  politeness  prevented  him  from  showing 
the  annoyance  he  felt. 

While  the  lady  was  proceeding  with  her  work, 
he  gathered  from  the  conversation  around  him  that 
some  one  of  importance  was  expected  at  the  castle, 
and  he  at  length  made  out  that  the  young  heir — 
Lord  Fitz  Barry — was  looked  for  during  the  after- 
noon. 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  51 

Dermot  had  never  seen  him,  for  during  the  pre- 
vious summer,  he  had  not  returned  home,  having 
remained  with  his  tutor  in  England.  He  found  that 
the  carriage  had  been  sent  for  the  young  Lord  to 
the  neighbouring  town. 

As  soon  as  the  ladies  dismissed  him,  Dermot 
took  his  way  along  the  road  by  which  he  would 
reach  the  castle. 

He  had  not  long  to  wait  before  he  saw  an  open 
carriage  with  the  Earl  in  it,  and  by  his  side  a 
young  boy  bearing  a  strong  resemblance  to  Lady 
Nora. 

There  were  the  same  blue  eyes  and  the  fair  com- 
plexion and  rich  auburn  air  possessed  by  his  sister, 
at  the  same  time  there  was  a  manly  look  and  ex- 
pression in  his  countenance — boy  as  he  was — which 
at  once  won  Dermot's  respect. 

"Ah,  he  has  the  old  blood  of  his  family  in  his 
veins,"  thought  Dermot,  "and  when  he  comes  to 
man's  estate  he'll  prove,  I  hope,  the  same  kind- 
hearted,  honest  man  that  his  father  is." 

Well  pleased  with  his  morning  visit  to  the  castle, 
Dermot  returned  to  his  humble  cottage.  Did  he 
ever  draw  a  contrast  between  the  two  abodes  ? 
Yes,  but  he  was  not  discontented  with  his  lot.  He 
loved  his  mother,  and  he  knew  that  his  mother 
loved  him  above  all  earthly  things,  and  that  she 


52  Shore  and  Ocean. 

would  not  exchange  him,  even  to  dwell  in  that 
lordly  castle.  Still,  as  Dermot  advanced  in  knowl- 
edge and  in  age,  he  could  not  help  discovering  that 
his  mother  was  ignorant  and  prone  to  superstition. 
Indeed  with  pain  he  sometimes  suspected  that  her 
mind  was  not  altogether  perfectly  right.  She  would 
sit  occasionally  talking  to  herself,  and  now  and  then 
speak  of  strange  events  which  had  passed  in  her 
youth,  of  which  she  would  give  no  explanation. 
He,  however,  quickly  banished  this  latter  idea,  as 
too  painful  to  be  entertained.  She  loved  him,  what 
more  could  he  desire  ?  When  he  was  anxious  about 
her,  he  reflected  that  she  had  secured  more  than 
one  friend  in  the  neighbourhood.  That  his  uncle 
Shane  was  devoted  to  her,  and  that  the  kind  Miss 
O'Reilly  had  promised  always  to  watch  over  her. 

Many  wild  thoughts  and  schemes  passed  fre- 
quently through  Dermot's  mind.  He  dared  not 
at  first  give  utterance  to  them,  not  even  to  him- 
self, and  he  would  have  found  it  impossible  to 
mention  them  to  any  human  being. 

Mr.  Jamieson,  more  than  once,  had  spoken  to  him 
of  the  future,  and  hinted  that  if  the  way  was  open 
to  him,  he  would  scarcely  fail,  with  the  talents  and 
application  he  possessed,  of  rising  in  life.  It  was 
very  natural  in  Mr.  Jamieson  to  think  this,  for  he 
knew  that  a  fisher-boy's  existence  on  the  west 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  53 

coast  of  Ireland  was  one  of  ill-requited  toil,  and  of 
great  danger.  Holding  this  opinion,  he  felt  that 
the  boy  would  not  change  for  the  worse,  and  would 
certainly  improve  his  position  in  whatever  calling 
he  might  engage. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

afternoon,  when  it  was  blowing  too  hard  to 
allow  Dermot  to  put  to  sea  in  his  boat,  he 
had  gone  to  the  vicarage  to  obtain  his  usual  in- 
struction, carrying  with  him  some  fish  he  had 
caught,  as  a  present  to  the  vicar's  niece.  After  he 
had  received  his  instruction  and  was  about  to  take 
his  departure,  Miss  O'Reilly  called  him  back  to 
thank  him  for  the  fish  which  he  had  brought  her. 

"  By-the-by  !  "  observed  Mr.  Jamieson,  "  Dermot 
can  take  the  pony  which  I  wish  to  send  for  young 
Lord  Fitz  Barry,  and  the  cloak  which  he  left  here 
the  other  day." 

Dermot  had  not  often  ridden;  but  where  is  the 
Irish  boy  who  would  not  undertake  to  mount  the 
most  fiery  steed  if  he  was  asked  to  do  so  ? 

He  gladly  promised  to  take  the  pony  and  cloak 
to  the  castle.  It  was  already  late  in  the  day,  but 
he  observed  that  "that  did  not  matter,"  as  it  must 
be  a  dark  night  in  which  he  could  not  find  his  way 
home.  The  pony  was,  however,  in  the  field,  and 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  55 

some  more  time  elapsed  before  he  was  caught. 
Miss  O'Reilly  then  bethought  her,  that  Dermot  had 
been  a  long  time  without  food,  and  insisted  on  his 
taking  some  before  he  set  off  on  that  blustering 
evening.  It  was  thus  almost  dark  before  he  left 
the  vicarage  for  the  castle.  He  looked  down  on 
the  bay:  the  frigate  still  lay  at  anchor  there,  the 
wind  being  still  from  the  north. 

"  If  the  wind  shifts  a  little  more  to  the  west,  she 
will  have  to  put  to  sea,"  thought  Dermot.  "It  will 
not  do  for  her  to  remain  in  the  bay  with  the  wind 
blowing  in  from  the  west,  and  with  such  a  sea  as 
often  rolls  in  here,  enough  to  cast  the  stoutest  ship 
high  upon  the  beach,  or  to  dash  her  to  fragments 
should  she  touch  the  rocks." 

Dermot  rode  on,  not,  however,  very  fast,  as  the 
little  animal  was  unwilling  to  leave  his  own  home, 
not  guessing  the  comfortable  quarters  to  which  he 
was  bound.  The  wind  brought  up  a  heavy  shower 
of  rain  and  hail;  Dermot  was  doubtful  whether  he 
ought  to  shelter  himself  under  the  young  lord's 
cloak.  "Still,"  he  thought,  "it  will  not  be  the 
worse  for  being  on  my  shoulders,  and  I  shall  be  wet 
through  and  well-nigh  frozen  before  I  reach  the 
castle,  if  I  am  to  sit  on  this  animal's  back  exposed 
to  the  storm." 

He  wisely  therefore,  having  overcome  his  scru- 


56  Shore  and  Ocean. 

pies,  put  on  the  cloak,  and  continued  his  course  as 
fast  as  the  pony  would  condescend  to  go  towards 
the  castle. 

Just  as  the  frigate  was  hid  from  his  view  by  some 
intervening  downs,  he  thought  he  saw  the  men 
going  aloft  to  loose  the'  topsails,  an  indication  of 
the  ship  being  about  to  get  under  weigh. 

"  It  is  the  wisest  thing  that  can  be  done,"  he 
thought  to  himself.  "  She  can  easily  stand  off  until 
the  summer  gale  is  over,  and  run  no  risk  of  being 
driven  on  shore." 

He  was  already  at  no  great  distance  from  the 
castle,  when  suddenly  from  behind  some  rocks  and 
bushes  which  lay  near  the  road,  a  number  of  men 
sprang  up  and  seized  the  bridle  of  his  pony.  He 
was  too  much  astonished  to  cry  out,  or  to  ask  what 
was  their  purpose  in  thus  attacking  him. 

By  the  expressions  that  they  uttered,  however, 
he  soon  discovered  that  they  were  under  the  im- 
pression that  they  had  got  possession  of  the  young 
lord. 

"  Now,"  he  thought  to  himself,  with  admirable 
presence  of  mind,  "the  best  thing  I  can  do  is  to 
hold  my  tongue,  and  just  see  what  they  intended  to 
do  with  him.  I  would  a  great  deal  rather  that  they 
caught  hold  of  me,  to  whom  it  matters  not  what 
harm  they  do,  than  the  young  lord.  I  would  will- 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  57 

ingly  save  him  for  his  sweet  sister's  sake,  and  for  his 
too,  for  he  is  a  kind  boy,  with  a  gentle  heart.  I  am 
sure  of  that.  There  is  no  pride  or  haughtiness 
about  him.  If  there  were,  I  should  not  feel  dis- 
posed to  serve  him.  No,  I  could  not  do  that. 
Well,  I  will  see  what  these  men  want  to  do  with 
him.  They  will  be  rather  surprised  and  enraged 
maybe  when  they  find  whom  they  have  got,  instead 
of  the  young  lord." 

These  thoughts  passed  rapidly  through  Dermot's 
mind,  as  he  saw  that  he  was  surrounded  by  an 
armed  band  of  men.  They  did  not  attempt  to  pull 
him  from  his  pony,  but  turning  round  the  animal's 
head,  they  led  him  across  the  country  inland  at  a 
rapid  rate,  a  man  holding  the  rein  on  either  side 
with  a  firm  grasp,  to  prevent  the  little  animal  from 
falling  over  the  rough  ground  they  were  traversing. 

Dermot  firmly  kept  to  his  resolution  of  saying 
nothing.  The  night  was  so  dark,  that  had  it  not 
been  for  his  knowledge  of  the  direction  from  which 
the  wind  blew,  he  would  have  been  unable  to  guess 
where  he  was  going.  In  a  short  time,  however,  he 
found  the  wind  blew  directly  in  his  teeth.  He  knew 
that  they  must  be  travelling  north,  and  also,  from 
the  character  of  the  ground,  that  they  had  already 
passed  beyond  the  vicarage,  and  that  they  could  be 
at  no  great  distance  from  his  own  home.  Now  they 


58  Shore  and  Ocean. 

turned  once  more  to  the  west,  and  he  felt  sure  they 
were  approaching  the  sea.  The  ground  became 
more  and  more  wild  and  rugged,  and  he  guessed  by 
feeling  that  they  continued  to  ascend  for  some  dis- 
tance, that  they  had  reached  a  range  of  wild  hills 
which  lay  in  that  direction. 

All  this  time  he  had  keep  his  senses  wide  awake, 
nor  did  he  allow  himself  to  feel  the  slightest  fear  of 
what  was  likely  to  happen. 

"No  great  harm  can  come  to  me,"  at  length  he 
thought  to  himself;  "and  if  it  does,  what  matters 
it  ?  There  are  those  who  will  look  after  my  mother, 
and  I  shall  have  saved  the  young  lord  from  some 
plot  which  these  ruffians  have  formed  against  him." 

All  this  time  the  people  round  him  were  speaking 
the  native  Irish,  little  supposing  that  their  prisoner 
understood  every  word  they  said.  He  was  at  length 
able  to  gather  from  their  conversation  that  they 
intended  to  hold  the  young  lord  as  a  hostage, 
threatening,  if  the  demands  they  proposed  mak- 
ing were  not  granted,  that  they  would  kill  him  in 
revenge. 

At  length,  he  was  ordered  to  dismount,  and  he 
found  himself  led  forward  through  a  narrow  pas- 
sage, with  rocks  on  either  side,  which  conducted 
them  into  the  interior  of  a  cave.  It  was  of  consid- 
erable size,  the  roof  and  sides  covered  apparently 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  59 

with  smoke,  probably  the  result  of  the  illicit  distil- 
lery which  existed,  or  had  existed  there.  It  was 
dimly  lighted  by  a  lamp  fixed  on  a  projecting  point 
of  the  rock.  This  enabled  Dermot  to  see  that  a 
number  of  arms  were  piled  up  along  one  side,  mus- 
kets, pikes,  and  swords.  There  were  two  small 
field-pieces,  and  what  he  supposed  to  be  cases  of 
ammunition.  Had  the  light  been  greater  he  would 
probably  have  been  at  once  discovered.  As  it  was, 
however,  he  was  led  forthwith  to  the  farther  part 
of  the  cave,  where  he  was  told  to  take  a  seat  on  a 
rough  bed-place. 

"  We'll  be  after  bringing  your  food  directly,"  said 
a  man,  the  first  person  who  had  spoken  to  him 
since  his  capture.  "  You  will  be  quiet  now,  and 
not  attempt  to  run  away ;  for  we  should  shoot  you 
if  you  did  without  the  slightest  ceremony.  You 
understand  that  ?  Or  stay,  if  we  were  to  bind  one 
of  your  feet  to  the  leg  of  this  bunk,  we  should  have 
you  more  secure,  I'm  thinking." 

Dermot,  adhering  to  his  resolution,  said  nothing 
in  return,  but  allowed  himself  to  be  secured  as  the 
man  proposed.  He  laughed,  however,  to  himself  at 
the  thought  of  the  ease  with  which  he  could  imme- 
diately liberate  himself  should  he  wish  to  do  so,  and 
wrapping  himself  closely  in  the  cloak,  the  better  to 
conceal  his  figure  and  dress,  should  by  chance  a 


60  Shore  and  Ocean. 

gleam  of  light  fall  upon  him,  he  lay  down  on  the 
bunk. 

Other  persons  now  continued  to  arrive,  until  the 
cave  was  full  of  men,  the  greater  part  of  whom 
were  peasants  or  small  farmers;  at  least  their  com- 
rades treated  them  with  but  little  ceremony, 

As  Dermot,  however,  was  watching  what  took 
place,  he  heard  the  men  whispering  to  each  other, 
"  It's  him  !  It's  him ;  he's  come  to  lead  us,  no  fear 
now." 

Just  then  a  man  appeared  at  the  entrance  of  the 
cave.  As  he  advanced  with  a  confident,  indeed 
somewhat  swaggering  step,  towards  the  table  in 
the  centre,  all  the  men  rose  from  their  seats  and 
greeted  him  in  various  tones  of  welcome. 

He  told  them  that  he  had  been  narrowly  watched, 
that  he  had  had  no  little  difficulty  in  escaping  his 
enemies  and  their  enemies,  that  he  was  thankful 
to  find  himself  among  them,  and  prepared  to  un- 
dertake any  enterprise,  however  hazardous,  which 
might  tend  to  forward  their  great  and  glorious 
cause — the  overthrow  of  their  Saxon  tyrants  and 
the  establishment  of  the  Irish  race  as  the  lords  and 
rulers  of  their  country.  He  said  a  great  deal  more 
to  the  same  effect,  which  was  eagerly  listened  to 
by  the  assembled  rebels. 

"Long  life  to  the  O'Higgins,  he's  the   boy  for 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  61 

us,"  resounded  through  the  cavern,  or  at  least 
words  to  that  effect  in  the  native  Irish,  the  only 
language  spoken  by  those  present. 

The  O'Higgins  spoke  it,  but  Dermot  remarked 
that  he  did  so  with  some  difficulty. 

The  conspirators  seemed  highly  delighted  at 
having  made  so  valuable  a  prize,  and  began  in 
no  subdued  voices,  to  discuss  their  future  plans 
and  proceedings. 

Dermot  listened  eagerly,  anxious  to  catch  every 
word  that  was  uttered.  He  found  that  they  were 
a  band  of  United  Irishmen,  as  the  rebels  were 
generally  called  at  that  time,  and  that  in  spite  of 
the  ill-success  of  their  undertaking  in  the  north, 
they  proposed  carrying  out  a  rising  in  that  part  of 
the  country.  Their  first  object  was  to  attack  the 
Castle  of  Kilfinnan,  where  they  hoped  to  find  a 
supply  of  arms  and  a  large  amount  of  booty.  They 
expected  also  to  extract  a  considerable  sum  for 
the  ransom  of  the  prisoners  they  might  capture  in 
the  castle,  and,  if  not,  they  proposed  putting  them 
all  to  death,  in  revenge  for  the  execution  of  their 
fellow-rebels,  which  had  taken  place  in  other  parts 
of  the  country. 

The  chief  impediment  to  their  plan  was  the  con- 
tinuance of  the  frigate  on  the  coast.  They  were 
anxious  to  devise  some  plan  by  which  she  might 


62  Shore  and  Ocean. 

be  drawn  off  to  another  part  of  Ireland,  or  induced, 
at  all  events,  to  put  to  sea.  Some  of  the  boldest 
of  the  party  proposed  collecting  a  flotilla  of  boats, 
and  taking  possession  of  her,  in  the  belief  that 
they  could  land  her  guns  and  other  arms,  and  thus 
obtain  the  means  of  better  competing  with  the 
royal  troops. 

These  and  many  other  schemes  were  freely  dis- 
cussed by  the  rebels.  After  some  time  another 
person  entered  the  cavern.  Dermot  looked  up  and 
saw  by  the  light  of  the  lamp,  which  fell  on  his 
countenance,  that  the  new  comer  was  no  other 
than  Father  O'Rourke.  He  and  the  O'Higgins 
greeted  each  other  warmly.  It  was  evident  that 
they  were  looked  upon  as  the  leaders  of  the  under- 
taking. The  one  active  in  a  spiritual  capacity, 
urging  on  the  infatuated  men  the  justice  of  their 
cause  and  promising  them  his  own  prayers  and  the 
protection  of  Heaven,  and  telling  them  to  go  on 
and  conquer;  the  other  inviting  them  to  follow 
him,  and  promising  them  the  victory.  Father 
O'Rourke  particularly  advocated  the  most  ener- 
getic measures.  He  even  advised  that  they  should 
at  once  march  towards  the  castle,  and,  exposing 
the  young  lord  to  view,  threaten  to  hang  him  if 
the  gates  were  not  opened  to  admit  them. 

This  plan  was,  however,  overruled  by  others,  who 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  63 

declared  that  the  frigate  still  lay  in  the  bay,  and 
that  whatever  the  Earl  might  do,  their  appearance 
on  the  shore  would  certainly  bring  the  shot  of  her 
guns  about  their  ears. 

"And  what  are  you  afraid  of,  comrades?"  ex- 
claimed Father  O'Rourke.  "If  they  do,  cannot  I 
give  each  of  you  the  blessed  picture  of  St.  Patrick, 
and  won't  that,  worn  about  your  neck,  guard  you 
from  the  shot  of  the  enemy?  Ah,  if  you  knew  the 
value  of  those  blessed  amulets,  you  would  all  of 
you  be  anxious  to  purchase  them.  No  soldier 
should  ever  think  of  going  into  battle  without  such 
a  safeguard.  Have  I  not  been  offering  up  prayers 
day  and  night  for  the  last  month  for  your  success, 
and  are  you  such  heretics  as  to  believe  that  they 
have  all  been  uttered  in  vain  ?  No,  trust  me,  let 
us  go  and  attack  the  castle  this  night  or  to-morrow 
at  farthest,  and  depend  upon  it,  we  shall  gain  such 
a  victory  as  will  make  all  the  people  in  the  country 
around  rise  up  and  join  us.  They  only  want  to  see 
a  little  success,  and  Ireland  shall  have  her  own 
again.  What,  boys  !  are  we  to  be  kept  down  by 
the  red  coats,  and  the  vile  heretics  who  call  George 
the  Third  king  ?  No,  I  say  again.  Ireland  for  the 
Irish.  May  St.  Patrick  and  all  the  blessed  Saints 
fight  for  us,  and  we  will  have  true  liberty  once  more 
in  the  green  Isle  of  old  Erin  ! " 


64  Shore  and  Ocean. 

While  listening  to  the  address  of  the  priest,  very 
similar  to  many  others  uttered  then,  and  even  at 
the  present  day,  by  the  so-called  pastors  of  the 
Romish  Church  in  Ireland,  Dermot  was  thinking 
over  what  he  should  attempt  to  do.  He  knew  per- 
fectly well  from  the  way  his  feet  had  been  tied  to 
the  bed,  that  he  could  liberate  himself  immediately; 
but  how  to  steal  out  of  the  cavern  without  being 
observed  was  the  difficulty;  even  should  the  chief 
body  of  the  rebels  go  to  sleep,  it  was  not  likely 
that  they  would  leave  the  cavern  without  a  guard. 
If  he  could  escape,  however,  he  thought  his  best 
plan  would  be  to  hasten  off  to  the  castle,  to  which 
he  felt  sure  he  could  find  his  way,  and  give  notice 
of  the  plans  of  the  conspirators. 

"The  Earl  probably  does  not  dream  of  an  attack 
being  made  on  his  residence,  and  will  not  certainly 
be  prepared,"  thought  Dermot  to  himself.  "Per- 
haps the  rebels  will  steal  towards  the  chief  door 
and  break  it  open  before  any  one  within  can  stop 
them.  The  frigate,  too,  if  she  has  not  sailed  al- 
ready, will  very  likely  go  away,  or  be  misled  by  the 
treacherous  information  those  people  will  send  on 
board.  Now,  if  I  could  steal  away  without  their 
finding  out  who  I  am,  they  will  not  suspect  that 
their  plans  are  discovered  as  they  know  that  the 
young  lord  would  not  understand  what  had  been 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  6$ 

said."  Dermot's  great  desire  therefore  was  to  es- 
cape from  the  cavern.  He  found  that  not  only  was  it 
expected  that  the  country  around  would  rise  and  at- 
tack all  the  Protestant  dwelling-houses  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood, but  that  a  French  squadron  with  troops 
would  come  off  the  coast  and  support  their  cause. 

This,  altogether,  was  terrible  news,  and  Dermot 
felt  that  it  was  most  important  it  should  be  con- 
veyed without  delay  to  Kilfinnan  Castle,  the  prin- 
cipal seat  in  that  neighbourhood. 

Dermot  had  never  liked  Father  O'Rourke,  and 
he  had  now  still  less  cause  to  admire  him.  He 
guessed,  too,  from  the  character  of  the  man,  that 
although  he  would  encourage  the  people  round  to 
rebel,  he  was  not  likely  to  run  himself  into  danger. 
He  was  not  surprised,  therefore,  after  hearing  him 
inflame  the  passions  and  ardour  of  his  misguided 
countrymen,  to  see  him  quietly  take  his  departure 
after  uttering  his  blessing  and  promising  them  suc- 
cess if  they  would  follow  his  injunctions. 

We  must  now  return  to  the  vicarage.  Scarcely 
had  Dermot  left  the  house  on  the  pony,  than  Miss 
O'Reilly  began  to  regret  that  she  had  allowed  him 
to  go.  She  went  to  the  door  and  felt  the  blast 
blowing  keenly  from  the  north,  and  knowing  the 
lateness  of  the  hour,  she  feared  that  he  would  be 
benighted  long  before  he  could  reach  the  castle. 
5 


66  Shore  and  Ocean. 

She  would  willingly  have  despatched  some  one  to 
him,  but  she  had  no  person  to  send. 

While  standing  at  the  door,  she  heard  a  voice, 
singing  one  of  the  wild  and  plaintive  airs  of  the 
country,  down  in  the  valley  beneath  the  vicarage. 
She  knew  by  the  sounds  that  the  singer  was  draw- 
ing nearer  and  nearer  the  house. 

"It  is  poor  mad  Kathleen,"  she  said  to  herself, 
"though  she  has  but  a  small  amount  of  brains,  yet 
she  is  fleet  of  foot,  and  would  soon  overtake  the 
lad,  and  bring  him  back  to  the  house.  It  would 
be  better  to  do  that,  than  let  him  go  on  with  the 
pony  he  ill  knows  how  to  bestride." 

The  song  continued,  and  in  a  short  time  the 
singer  stood  in  front  of  the  vicarage. 

"Well,  Kathleen,  what  brings  you  here?"  asked 
Miss  O'Reilly,  addressing  her  in  a  kind  tone. 

"What  brings  me  here  takes  me  wherever  I  list 
to  go,  my  own  free  will,"  answered  the  mad  girl,  •* 
who  was  still  young,  and  possessed  of  an  amount 
of  beauty  which  made  those  who  saw  her  feel  even 
more  sympathy  and  compassion  than  they  might 
have  done,  had  her  appearance  been  less  attractive. 

"  You  are  good  and  kind,  Kathleen,"  said  Miss 
O'Reilly;  "you  would  do  me  a  kindness,  I  know,  if 
I  were  to  ask  you." 

"  That  I  would,  lady  !  "  answered  the  girl,  in  the 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  67 

broken  Saxon  which  was  spoken  by  not  many  of  the 
peasantry  in  that  part  of  Ireland;  "  I  would  do  any- 
thing to  serve  you,  just  say  what  it  is." 

Miss  O'Reilly,  in  a  few  words,  explained  to 
Kathleen  what  she  wished  to  have  done. 

"You  know  him,  you  know  young  Dennot 
O'Neil?" 

"  O  yes,  I  know  him  well;  he  is  a  gentle  lad  and 
a  good  one,  and  I  would  gladly  serve  him,  as  I 
would  you,  lady." 

Miss  O'Reilly  again  endeavoured  to  impress  upon 
the  wandering  mind  of  the  poor  girl  what  she  was 
to  do,  and  then  begged  her  to  hasten  off  to  overtake 
Dermot.  However,  neither  she  nor  Miss  O'Reilly 
were  aware  of  the  distance  Dermot  would  have  got 
before  Kathleen  could  overtake  him. 

The  mad  girl  went  singing  on  as  was  her  wont  for 
some  time,  till  suddenly  she  became  unusually 
silent. 

She  had  not  gone  far  when  she  heard  the  loud 
talking  of  a  body  of  men  approaching  her. 

"  Those  voices  at  this  time  of  the  evening  bode 
no  good,"  she  said  to  herself.  "  They  are  some  of 
the  rebels  who  they  say  are  about  the  country.  I 
never  loved  such.  I  will  hide  and  watch  to  see 
what  they  are  about." 

She    accordingly    concealed    herself  among    the 


68  Shore  and  Ocean. 

rocks  and  uneven  ground  with  which  the  road  was 
bounded.  The  tramp  of  feet  approached,  coming 
from  the  direction  of  the  castle,  and  she  saw  some 
men  leading  a  pony  on  which  a  lad  was  mounted, 
hurriedly  proceeding  towards  the  north. 

From  what  she  had  heard  from  Miss  O'Reilly,  she 
at  once  concluded  that  the  person  she  had  seen  in 
the  hands  of  the  insurgents  must  be  Dermot  himself. 

"  Now  the  next  thing  I  have  to  do,"  she  thought, 
"  is  to  follow  and  try  to  find  out  where  they  are 
taking  him  to.  Surely  they  will  not  do  him  an 
injury,  but  still  they  have  no  right  to  carry  him  off; 
of  that  I  am  certain." 

Gathering  her  cloak  around  her,  she  quickly 
followed  the  footsteps  of  the  party  she  had  seen 
pass. 

She  had  to  keep  at  a  cautious  distance,  lest  in 
crossing  any  open  space,  she  might  have  been  dis- 
covered, but  where  a  person  in  their  right  mind  - 
might  have  hesitated,  she  went  on  fearlessly.  The 
road  was  rough  and  up  and  down  hill,  but  she  con- 
tinued her  pursuit  till  the  party  suddenly  came  to 
a  halt. 

"  Oh  !  "  she  said  to  herself;  "  I  know  the  spot 
where  they  have  gone  to ;  shall  I  go  on,  or  shall  I 
go  back  to  Miss  O'Reilly  and  tell  her  how  I  have 
been  defeated  in  fulfilling  her  directions  ?  " 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  69 

In  spite  of  the  distance  she  determined  to  follow 
the  latter  course. 

The  astonishment  of  Miss  O'Reilly  was  very 
great  when,  at  a  late  hour  in  the  evening,  Kathleen 
appeared  and  told  her  what  had  befallen  young 
Dermot. 

Miss  O'Reilly  instantly  consulted  her  uncle,  who 
fortunately  was  at  home. 

"  There  is  something  wrong  going  forward,  at  all 
events,"  he  observed.  "  But  why  the  rebels  should 
have  made  Dermot  prisoner  is  more  than  I  can  say. 
However,  perhaps  you  can  persuade  Kathleen  to  go 
back  to  the  cave  and  endeavour  to  release  him.  I 
don't  know  what  else  we  can  do.  In  the  morning 
I  will  ride  over  to  the  castle  and  consult  with  the 
Earl.  He  should  be  informed  that  a  rising  of  some 
sort  is  on  foot  through  the  country,  though  I  do 
not  suppose  it  is  of  much  consequence." 

Kathleen  was  perfectly  ready  to  undertake  the 
release  of  Dermot  if  she  could  accomplish  it,  and 
she  promised  at  all  events  to  enter  the  cavern  and 
to  communicate  with  him. 

"  He  is  a  wise  lad,  and  it  will  be  a  wise  thing  to 
do  as  he  bids  me,"  she  observed. 

"  But  you  must  be  weary,  Kathleen,"  said  Miss 
O'Reilly;  "you  will  want  some  refreshment  be- 
fore you  set  out  again  to-night." 


70  Shore  and  Ocean. 

"  No,  no,  when  the  mind's  at  work  the  body  re- 
quires no  food,"  said  the  mad  girl,  and  she  burst 
forth  in  a  wild  song  which  showed  the  excitement 
under  which  she  was  labouring. 


CHAPTER  V. 

T  T  71THOUT  waiting  for  further  directions,  away 
went  the  mad  girl  over  moorland  and  glen 
at  a  speed  which,  considering  the  darkness,  scarcely 
a  wild  deer  could  have  rivalled,  and  before  long  she 
stood  at  the  entrance  of  the  cavern.  She  waited 
for  some  time  in  hopes  that  the  inmates  would  go 
to  sleep,  and  that  she  could  more  easily  find  an 
entrance.  Listening,  she  heard  voices  within,  and 
that  of  Father  O'Rourke  above  all  the  rest. 

"Where  the  priest  is,  there  there's  mischief,"  she 
said  to  herself.  "  If  he's  going  to  stay  there's  little 
I  shall  be  able  to  do." 

She  had  not  waited  long,  however,  concealed  be- 
hind a  rock,  when  she  saw  Father  O'Rourke  issue 
forth  and  take  his  way  down  the  hill.  She  waited 
some  time  longer,  then  quietly  entered  the  cavern, 
gliding  past  the  table  and  up  to  its  further  end. 
The  men,  who  were  still  awake,  gazed  at  her  with 
astonishment,  wondering  what  had  brought  her 
there,  but  none  ventured  to  speak  to  her.  She  was 


72  Shore  and  Ocean. 

held  in  a  sort  of  superstitious  reverence  by  the 
ignorant  peasantry;  and  seeing  her  fearlessly  enter, 
they  fancied  that  she  had  authority  for  coming 
among  them.  No  one  suspected,  indeed,  that  she 
would  not  prove  faithful  to  their  cause,  had  she  dis- 
covered their  intention.  Silently  she  passed  up  the 
cavern  and  sat  herself  down  on  a  chest  at  the  fur- 
ther end,  where,  concealed  by  the  darkness,  she  yet 
could  look  forth  on  the  objects  lighted  by  the  lamp, 
and  make  her  observations. 

She  had  not  been  there  long  before  she  dis- 
covered Dermot  resting  on  his  elbow  on  the  bunk 
where  he  had  been  placed.  She  watched  till  those 
around  her  appeared  to  be  asleep,  and  she  then 
noiselessly  glided  up  to  where  he  lay. 

"  I  have  come  to  look  for  you,  Dermot,"  she  whis- 
pered.    "  Have  you  any  message  to  send  to  friends, 
or  would  you  have  rne  set  you  free  ?     The  message 
I  might  take,  but  if  I  were  to  try  and  set  you  free,"- 
I  might  be  made  prisoner  myself." 

"I  will  send  a  message;  that  will  be  the  safest 
plan,"  said  Dermot.  "  But  how  did  you  find  me 
out?"  She  told  him  briefly. 

"  Stay,  I  can  take  a  leaf  from  one  of  my  books," 
he  observed.  "  I  will  write  it,  it  will  be  safer,  and 
you  will'  remember  to  deliver  it,  Kathleen,  if  you 
wish  to  do  me  and  others  real  service." 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  73 

"Oh  yes,  Dermot,  write,  you  may  trust  me;  it 
is  better  than  putting  it  into  my  poor  mind,  though 
I  can  remember  if  it  is  not  overcharged,"  she  an- 
swered with  a  sigh.  "But  be  quick,  or  some  of 
these  people  will  be  suspecting  us." 

Dermot  sat  up.  He  had  fortunately  a  pencil  in 
his  pocket,  and  taking  a  leaf  from  one  of  his  books, 
he  wrote  a  few  lines,  addressed  to  the  Earl,  tell- 
ing him  of  the  intention  of  the  rebels  to  attack  his 
castle,  and  also  of  their  purpose  of  getting  the  frig- 
ate out  of  the  way. 

The  note  may  not  have  been  well  written  or 
very  well  expressed,  but  it  was  clear  and  to  the 
purpose.  After  signing  his  name  he  added,  "  Oh, 
trust  me,  my  lord,  I  would  come  myself  but  I  am 
a  prisoner,  and  I  pray  heaven  that  this  may  reach 
you  in  time  to  be  of  service." 

Kathleen  placed  the  note  in  her  bosom,  hoping 
that  she  had  not  been  observed. 

"  Now  hasten  away,  Kathleen,"  whispered  Der- 
mot. "You  can  do  as  much  good  as  I  could  have 
done  had  I  been  free,  and  providing  those  in  the 
castle  are  preserved  I  care  not  what  happens." 

Kathleen  returned  to  her  former  seat  and  began 
chanting  one  of  the  airs  she  was  generally  heard 
singing,  and  then,  once  more  gliding  down  the 
centre  of  the  cave,  she  took  her  departure  unques- 


74  Shore  and  Ocean. 

tioned  by  any  of  the  rebels.  Again  in  the  open 
air  she  quickly  descended  the  mountain,  dark  as 
it  was,  and  in  spite  of  the  roughness  of  the  way, 
she  hastened  forward  at  a  rapid  speed  towards 
Kilfinnan  Castle.  All  was  silent  as  she  approached 
the  gates.  In  vain  she  walked  round  and  round, 
she  could  find  no  means  of  making  herself  heard. 
The  inmates,  unsuspicious  of  danger,  were  all  at 
rest.  She  looked  down  into  the  bay.  The  frigate 
was  not  there.  "All  my  labours  will  be  of  no 
avail,"  she  thought  to  herself,  "  if  I  cannot  let  the 
good  lord  know  what  is  threatened." 

She  had  walked  some  way  under  the  castle  walls, 
when,  looking  up,  she  saw  a  light  in  the  window. 
Instantly  she  gave  forth  one  of  her  wild  songs. 
Some  of  those  within  who  had  heard  of  the  famed 
Banshee  were  fully  persuaded  that  it  was  a  phan- 
tom visitor  singing  outside  the  gates,  indicative  of 
the  speedy  death  of  some  one  of  consequence  with- 
in. At  length  the  window  opened. 

"  Who's  there  ?  "  asked  a  feminine  voice.  "  Surely 
it  is  some  mortal,  and  not  a  spirit  from  another 
world." 

"  I'm  sure  it  is,"  said  another  voice. 

"It's  the  poor  girl  Miss  O'Reilly  was  telling  us 
about.  What  is  it  you  want,  Kathleen  ? "  asked  the 
speaker  in  a  tender  tone. 


The  Heir  of  Kilfitinan,  75 

"Is  it  you  who  calls  me,  my  lady?"  answered 
Kathleen  from  below. 

"Yes,  it  is  I;  what  brings  you  here  at  this  hour 
of  the  night?" 

"A  message — a  paper  for  the  Earl,  my  lady," 
said  the  mad  girl.  "  It  is  from  one  who  would 
serve  him,  and  it  is  of  great  importance  he  told  me. 
I  cannot  say  more  now;  but  if  you  will  let  me  into 
the  castle  I  will  place  it  in  your  hands,  and  tell 
you  all  I  know." 

"  Come  round  to  the  front  door,"  said  a  voice, 
which  was  that  of  Lady  Sophy.  "We  will  come 
down  with  a  light,  and  admit  you." 

Some  time  was  occupied  by  the  young  ladies  in 
putting  on  their  dresses,  and  then  arousing  the  Earl 
with  the  information  that  a  message  of  importance 
was  brought  for  him,  they  hastened  down  stairs. 

At  first,  from  the  incoherent  way  in  which  poor 
Kathleen  spoke,  Lady  Sophy  and  Nora  could  not 
understand  what  had  occurred.  At  length  the  truth 
dawned  upon  them,  and  by  the  time  the  Earl  ap- 
peared, they  were  able  to  explain  to  him  what 
they  had  learned. 

He  at  once  clearly  understood  that  Dermot  had 
been  seized  by  those  who  intended  to  carry  off  his 
own  son,  and  he  felt  not  a  little  grateful  to  the 
young  fisher-boy  for  the  way  he  had  behaved  in 


76  Shore  and  Ocean. 

the  matter.  He  saw  likewise  that  no  time  was  to 
be  lost,  and  that  it  would  be  necessary  both  to  send 
off  messengers  to  procure  troops  from  the  nearest 
place  where  they  were  quartered,  and  also  immedi- 
ately to  put  the  castle  into  a  state  of  defence.  He 
regretted  the  absence  of  the  frigate,  and  could  only 
hope  that  she  might  return  sooner  than  it  had  been 
Captain  Falkner's  intention  of  doing. 

In  vain  Lady  Sophy  pressed  poor  Kathleen,  after 
her  exertions,  to  remain  and  rest  at  the  castle. 

"No,  no,"  she  answered;  "I  will  be  back  again 
at  my  home.  If  I  am  absent,  they  will  suspect 
that  I  have  taken  a  part  in  this  matter;  and  though 
they  can  do  me  no  harm,  they  may  injure  those  I 
love." 

The   poor  girl   could    scarcely  be   persuaded   to 
take  any  refreshment;  and  at  length,  having  eaten 
a  little  which  Lady  Nora  brought  her,  she  hastened 
away  towards  the  vicarage,  singing   in   her   usual  - 
strain  as  she  went. 

The  Earl  quickly  aroused  the  inmates  of  the  cas- 
tle. Messengers  were  sent  off  as  he  proposed,  and 
all  the  people  in  the  neighbourhood  who  could  be 
trusted  were  summoned  to  come  within  the  walls 
to  aid  in  its  defence.  There  were  a  few  guns  planted 
on  the  battlements,  but  they  were  more  for  show 
than  use,  that  part  of  the  country  having  hitherto 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  77 

been  tranquil,  and  no  idea  being  entertained  that 
they  would  be  required.  There  were,  however, 
muskets  and  pistols  in  the  armoury,  and  pikes,  and 
numerous  old  weapons  of  warfare  which  were  stored 
there,  more  as  an  exhibition  on  account  of  their 
antiquity  than  for  use.  Still,  the  gates  were  strong, 
and  it  would  require  no  small  amount  of  force  to 
break  them  open. 

The  preparations  for  the  defence  occupied  a  con- 
siderable time;  the  lower  windows  had  to  be  barri- 
caded, and  the  doors  strengthened  by  stout  bars. 
A  few  holes  were  left  for  musketry  in  different 
parts,  and  a  supply  of  large  stones  was  brought  up 
from  the  beach  below  to  serve  as  missiles,  should 
the  rebels  approach  near  enough  to  make  them 
useful. 

The  first  streaks  of  daylight  were  appearing  in 
the  sky  before  all  these  preparations  were  made. 
Soon  after,  while  the  little  garrison  were  resting 
from  the  toil  they  had  undergone,  the  tramp  of  feet 
was  heard  approaching  the  castle. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

rT^OWARDS  morning  Dermot  was  roused  from 
the  bunk  on  which  he  had  been  placed  by  the 
man  who  had  before  spoken,  and  an  intimation 
given  him  that  he  must  rise  and  prepare  to  move. 

He  again  saw  the  person  who  had  been  called 
O'Higgins  marshalling  the  rebels,  giving  various 
directions,  and  finally  putting  himself  at  their  head, 
as  in  regular  order  they  marched  away  from  the 
cavern. 

On  being  led  out  of  the  cave  Dermot  was  placed 
on  the  pony  and  led  between  two  men,  and  was 
conducted  at  a  rapid  pace  towards  the  south.  He 
knew  this  by  finding  the  wind  still  in  his  back,  and 
catching  a  glimpse  through  the  gloom  of  the  dis- 
tant sea. 

"  They  must  be  going  back  to  the  castle,"  he 
thought,  "and  are  about  to  make  the  attack  they 
have  been  threatening.  I  hope  Kathleen  arrived 
in  time;  if  not,  those  beautiful  young  ladies  and  the 
kind  Earl  will  fall  into  their  hands.  Oh,  that  I 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  79 

could  have  got  away  and  made  sure  of  giving  them 
warning  in  time;  and  yet  I  do  not  think  the  people 
in  the  cave  slept  through  the  night,  and  I  should 
have  been  found  out  to  a  certainty.  Even  now,  I 
don't  think  they  know  who  I  am,  and  they  still  be- 
lieve they  have  got  the  young  lord.  Well,  they 
may  hang  me  in  their  rage  when  they  find  out  who 
I  am,  and  it  cannot  be  helped.  Kathleen  will 
scarcely  have  failed  in  giving  the  notice  I  sent. 
But  then,  if  they  kill  me,  oh,  what  grief  for  my 
poor  mother!  That, is  the  bitterest  thing  in  the 
matter:  for  her  sake,  if  I  thought  there  was  a  chance 
of  escaping  I  would  make  the  attempt;  but  if  God 
thinks  right  to  call  me  out  of  the  world,  He  knows 
what  is  best.  Still  something  may  occur  by  which 
I  may  hope  to  escape,  though  I  know  these  men 
about  me  are  ready  for  any  bloody  work.  What 
fearful  oaths  I  heard  them  swear,  and  we  know  too 
well  what  dreadful  things  have  been  done  in  other 
parts  of  the  country.  The  young  and  the  fair,  and 
the  old  and  the  helpless,  have  been  murdered  by 
their  cruel  hands.  A  fearful  thing  is  this  civil  war. 
I  used  not  to  think  much  of  it  once,  but  I  do  now. 
And  oh,  that  sweet  young  Lady  Nora  and  her 
cousin,  to  think  of  the  horrors  to  which  they  may 
be  exposed." 

Such   were   the    thoughts   which   passed   rapidly 


8o  Shor£  and  Ocean. 

through  Dermot's  brain  in  spite  of  the  danger  to 
which  he  himself  was  exposed.  He  heard  the  peo- 
ple as  before  speaking  round  him  in  the  native  Irish, 
but  he  took  good  care  to  make  no  remarks ;  indeed, 
he  felt  sure  that  should  he  speak,  his  voice  alone 
might  betray  him.  Had  they  indeed  seen  him  in 
daylight  they  might  have  suspected,  in  spite  of  the 
cloak  which  covered  him,  that  he  was  not  the  young 
lord.  At  length  he  knew  by  the  appearance  of  the 
country,  and  the  expressions  he  heard  uttered  round 
him,  that  they  were  drawing  close  to  the  castle, 
though  they  had  arrived  by  a  more  inland  route 
than  that  which  he  usually  took.  He  judged  that 
some  hundreds  of  people  comprised  the  force  of  reb- 
els. They  were  armed  in  a  variety  of  ways,  but  a 
considerable  number  had  muskets  and  pistols.  He 
discovered  also  that  the  two  small  field-pieces  which 
he  had  seen  in  the  cavern  had  been  brought  with 
them.  Not  knowing  the  moderate  powers  of  such 
pieces  of  ordnance,  he  was  afraid  that  the  insur- 
gents with  them  would  batter  down  walls.  This 
made  him  feel  more  alarmed  than  ever  for  the 
safety  of  his  friends. 

The  rebel  force  now  drew  up  close  round  the 
castle,  and  a  consultation  was  held  among  the 
chiefs  as  to  how  the  attack  should  be  commenced. 

Dermot  was  led  up  on  his  pony  close  to  where 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  81 

the  leaders  were  assembled  holding  their  consulta- 
tion of  war.  One  of  them,  with  more  sagacity  than 
the  rest,  suggested  that  before  they  began  the 
attack  they  should  demand  the  surrender  of  the 
fortress,  threatening  that  if  this  was  not  agreed  to, 
they  would  immediately  put  to  death  the  young 
lord  whom  they  had  in  their  power. 

One  of  their  number  was  accordingly  selected  to 
act  as  herald,  and  directed  to  proceed  to  the  front 
gate,  and  to  demand  a  parley.  The  man  thus  hon- 
oured was  a  broad-shouldered  Celt,  evidently  more 
accustomed  to  dig  than  to  perform  the  part  for 
which  he  had  been  appointed.  He  was  furnished, 
however,  with  a  stick  and  white  handkerchief  fas- 
tened to  it,  to  act  as  a  flag  of  truce,  and  urged  to 
proceed  at  once  on  his  mission. 

He  evidently  did  not  like  the  task  imposed  on 
him,  for  Dermot  heard  him  explain  that  he  was 
doubtful  whether  he  could  muster  a  sufficient 
amount  of  Saxon  to  speak  to  the  garrison. 

"Never  fear  that,"  was  the  answer;  "there  are 
many  who  know  Celtic  inside,  and  they'll  not  fail  to 
understand  you." 

While  these  arrangements  were  being  made  the 

dawn  broke.     The  herald  appeared  before  the  gate, 

and    was    considerably    astonished    when    told,    in 

reply  to  his  demand,  that  the  Earl  declined  holding 

6 


82  •     Shore  and  Ocean. 

any  communication  with  men  in  arms  against  their 
sovereign.  "  But  if  we  hang  the  Earl's  son  if  they 
don't  let  us  in,  what  will  he  say  to  that  ? "  asked 
the  herald. 

"You  will  commit  any  outrage  at  your  own  peril," 
was  the  answer.  "The  Earl  knows  that  you  would 
not  dare  to  hang  his  son,  even  if  you  had  him  in 
your  power.  Do  you  expect  to  escape  the  ven- 
geance of  the  whole  nation  should  you  venture  to 
commit  any  such  atrocity.  Go  back  from  whence 
you  came;  the  Earl  and  all  within  this  castle  set 
you  at  defiance." 

The  herald,  unwilling  to  go  back  to  his  com- 
panions with  such  an  answer,  again  asked  if  such 
was  their  ultimate  resolution. 

"Yes.  You  will  only  bring  destruction  on  your 
own  head  if  you  remain  where  you  are;  and  we 
again  tell  you,  we  defy  you,"  answered  the  person 
within. 

At  last  the  herald  returned  to  the  council  of  war, 
which  was  still  sitting.  The  two  guns  were  now 
brought  forward  and  placed  on  an  elevated  situa- 
tion, for  it  had  not  occurred  to  their  possessors  that 
the  only  service  they  could  render  would  be  to  bat- 
ter in  the  gates  of  the  castle.  The  men  who  had 
muskets  made  their  appearance  in  the  front  rank, 
thus  to  produce  a  more  imposing  effect.  While 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  83 

these  arrangements  were  being  made  some  of  the 
men  had  been  cutting  down  young  trees  in  a  plan- 
tation close  by.  These  they  now  fixed  in  a  mound 
near  the  spot  where  the  guns  were  posted,  and  to 
their  tops  they  secured  a  cross  beam.  A  rope  was 
then  produced. 

"  We  shall  have  to  hang  the  boy  if  the  Earl  does 
not  give  in,"  Dermot  heard  some  of  the  people 
round  about  him  observe. 

"  I  would  gladly  have  escaped  the  work,"  re- 
marked another.  "Yet  if  it  must  be  done,  it  must 
be." 

Dermot  watched  these  proceedings,  and  it  would 
have  been  unnatural  if  he  had  not  felt  a  sensation 
of  horror  creeping  over  him.  Should  he  endeavour 
to  save  his  life  by  declaring  that  he  was  not  the 
Earl's  son.  It  naturally  occurred  to  him  to  do  this, 
and  yet  it  would  probably  no  longer  avail  him.  He 
nerved  himself  for  the  fate  which  seemed  inevit- 
able. The  preparations  had  been  seen  from  the 
castle. 

"  If  you  commit  murder,"  shouted  a  voice  from 
one  of  the  turrets,  "you  will  bring  down  the  ven- 
geance of  Heaven  and  of  your  country  on  your 
heads." 

The  chiefs  continued  their  consultation.  The  dis- 
cussion appeared  to  be  a  warm  one.  Some  of  them 


84  Shore  and  Ocean. 

got  up  and  walked  about  shaking  their  fists  at  the 
castle. 

"It  must  be  done!"  he  heard  several  exclaim; 
"  it  will  strike  terror  into  the  hearts  of  our  Saxon 
persecutors.  The  boy  must  die.  If  we  let  him  es- 
cape they  would  declare  that  we  were  afraid,  and 
that  would  make  them  tyrannize  more  than  ever 
over  us."  Several  men  now  came  to  Dermot  and 
led  him  towards  the  gallows  which  he  had  seen 
erected.  At  the  same  time  an  attempt  was  made 
to  fire  the  guns  placed  on  the  height,  but  neither  of 
them  went  ofif." 

"The  powder  is  bad,"  Dermot  thought  to  himself; 
"will  it  all  be  like  that?" 

It  was  a  curious  thought  at  such  a  moment.  He 
had  nerved  his  heart  for  the  worst. 

"Again  we  ask,  will  you  yield  the  castle?"  ex- 
claimed several  voices  from  the  height. 

"  No,  but  if  you  injure  that  boy,  vengeance  will 
overtake  you,"  was  the  answer. 

The  men  uttered  a  hoarse  laugh  with  some  fear- 
ful oaths. 

"We  shall  soon  see  that.  Bring  him  forward. 
Now,  boy,  are  you  prepared  for  heaven  ?  You  will 
be  there  in  a  few  minutes.  But  who  are  you  ?  "  ex- 
claimed several  voices. 

Before   Dermot   could   reply,   the   cloak   he   had 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  85 

hitherto  worn  fell  from  his  shoulders,  and  his  dress 
and  appearance  showed  that  he  was  a  very  differ- 
ent person  to  the  young  lord,  whom  they  fancied 
they  had  captured. 

None  of  those  present,  however,  seemed  to  know 
him.  "  If  he  belongs  to  these  parts  he  must  under- 
stand what  we  have  said,"  exclaimed  O'Higgins, 
"and  if  so,  he  may  have  gained  more  of  our  se- 
crets than  he  should  know,  a  sufficient  reason,  if 
there  were  no  other,  to  hang  him.  Who  are  you  ?" 
again  asked  O'Higgins;  "say,  boy." 

"  I  am  the  son  of  Widow  O'Neil,"  he  answered, 
without  trepidation,  in  the  native  Irish  in  which  he 
was  addressed,  "and  I  am  her  mainstay  and  sup- 
port. If  you  hang  me  you  will  bring  the  maledic- 
tion of  Heaven,  and  the  widow's  curse  will  rest 
upon  you.  If  I  know  your  secrets,  I  am  not  about 
to  divulge  them;  I  am  too  much  of  an  Irishman  to 
do  that,  if  I  give  you  my  promise  that  I  will  not." 

This  answer  seemed  to  have  gained  the  good 
opinion  of  some  of  the  bystanders,  but  suddenly  a 
man  who  recognized  Dermot  sprang  up  from  among 
them. 

"He  has  become  a  young  heretic;  he  goes  to 
the  house  of  the  Protestant  minister,  you  can  never 
trust  him  after  that,"  he  exclaimed. 

"  He  knows  our  secrets,  and  it  is  dangerous  that 


86  Shore  and  Ocean. 

he  should  possess  them,"  observed  two  or  three 
of  the  leaders,  "  and  it  is  evidently  necessary  to 
put  him  out  of  the  way." 

Again  there  was  a  warm  discussion  among  them, 
and  the  remarks  of  most  of  the  speakers  were  evi- 
dently averse  to  him. 

"  He  must  die — he  must  die  ! "  exclaimed  sev- 
eral voices,  and  Dermot  found  himself  once  more 
hurried  close  up  to  the  gallows. 

The  brutal  fellow  who  had  been  selected  to  act 
as  herald,  provoked  by  the  reception  he  had  met 
with,  undertook  to  act  as  executioner.  Dermot's 
arms  were  bound  tightly  behind  him,  and  he  was 
again  placed  on  the  pony  from  which  he  had  dis- 
mounted. The  rope  was  secured  to  the  beam, 
and  the  savage  remorselessly  prepared  to  adjust 
it  round  his  neck. 


WIDOW  O'NEIL  SAVKS  HER  SON. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

TN  another  minute  the  young  boy  would  have 
been  put  out  of  the  world  by  his  savage  coun- 
trymen, when  a  loud  cry  was  heard,  and  a  woman 
was  seen  rushing  towards  the  spot.  A  red  cloak 
was  over  her  shoulders;  her  long  dark  hair  streamed 
in  the  wind. 

"  Who  is  it  you  are  going  to  kill  ?  Hold,  hold, 
you  savages  ! "  she  exclaimed  in  native  Irish. 
"  Why,  that  is  my  own  boy,  the  son  of  my  bosom. 
What  harm  could  one  so  young  and  innocent  as  he 
is  have  done  to  you  ?  Which  of  you  will  dare  to 
take  the  widow's  only  child  from  her  ?  Which  of 
you  will  dare  to  commit  a  crime  at  which  the  most 
cruel  of  savages  would  hesitate  ?  Dark  curses  will 
rest  upon  your  bodies  here,  and  on  your  souls  for 
ever,  if  you  dare  to  do  so  foul  a  deed.  Would  any 
of  you  wish  to  bring  down  the  bereaved  widow's 
maledictions  on  your  heads?  Let  the  boy  go;  he 
would  never  wish  to  harm  one  of  you;  a  true-hearted 
Irish  lad."  She  rushed  forward,  no  one  venturing  to 


88  Shore  and  Ocean. 

stop  her.  Like  a  tigress  she  flew  at  the  man  who 
held  the  rope  in  his  hand  and  cast  it  off  the  neck  of 
her  son.  "  Now  let  him  go,"  she  exclaimed,  throw- 
ing out  her  arm;  "I  defy  you  all.  Would  any  one 
dare  to  touch  him  ? "  With  frantic  gesture  she 
released  his  arms  which  had  been  bound  behind 
him.  "  Now  let  the  minister's  pony  return  to  its 
home;  he  is  far  too  good  a  beast  to  serve  any  one 
of  you.  Come  with  me,  Dermot,"  she  exclaimed,  as 
the  boy  threw  himself  from  the  animal  and  stood  by 
her  side.  Shielding  her  son  with  her  cloak,  she  led 
him  forward,  stretching  out  her  arm  as  if  to  drive 
back  any  who  might  venture  to  stop  them,  and  un- 
molested they  took  their  way  towards  their  home. 

The  same  men  who  appeared  thus  abashed  and 
confounded  in  the  presence  of  a  weak  woman,  now, 
at  the  order  of  O'Higgins,  began  with  all  the  fero- 
city of  wild  beasts,  to  assault  the  castle.  Again 
and  again  they  fired  their  field-pieces  with  no  ap- 
parent effect.  The  men  with  muskets,  however, 
kept  up  a  hot  fire  against  every  part  of  the  building 
where  they  thought  a  bullet  might  enter.  The 
besieged,  however,  did  not  reply  to  their  fire.  Not 
a  single  person  in  the  castle  was  to  be  seen;  all 
apertures  were  closed,  and  the  shot  fell  harmlessly 
against  the  stone  walls. 

This  determined  silence  somewhat  disconcerted 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  89 

the  rebels,  who  had  expected  resistance,  and  hoped 
to  find  some  point  which  they  might  more  easily 
assail.  At  length  one  of  their  leaders,  with  more 
military  genius  than  the  rest,  proposed  bringing  the 
guns  down  to  the  front  gate.  In  vain,  however, 
the  shots  were  fired  against  it ;  the  gates  were  of 
iron  backed  by  wood,  and  the  shots  made  no  im- 
pression on  them.  It  was  then  determined  to  as- 
sault the  castle  by  attempting  to  scale  the  walls, 
and  the  men  eagerly  set  to  work  to  form  ladders 
out  of  the  neighbouring  woods.  This,  however,  oc- 
cupied some  time,  for  although  there  were  plenty 
of  workmen,  they  had  few  tools  or  nails,  and  after 
two  hours'  labour,  scarcely  two  dozen  ill -con- 
structed ladders  had  been  formed.  With  these, 
however,  a  band  of  daring  men  might  possibly  gain 
the  battlements. 

The  object  of  the  assailants  was  suspected  by 
those  within ;  they  prepared  accordingly  to  repel 
the  attack  whenever  it  might  be  made. 

It  appeared  to  the  leader  of  the  rebels  that  by 
assaulting  the  south  side  of  the  castle  they  were 
most  likely  to  prove  successful.  Thither  accord- 
ingly he  led  the  main  body  of  his  men,  while 
another  party  continued  to  assail  the  front  gate, 
and  the  remainder,  concealed  among  the  walls  and 
rough  ground  outside  the  castle,  kept  up  a  hot 


go  Shore  and  Ocean. 

fire  on  the  battlements.  At  length  the  assailants, 
jumping  down  into  the  ditch,  placed  their  ladders 
against  the  walls.  Up  they  began  to  climb  with 
loud  shouts  and  imprecations  on  the  heads  of  its 
defenders. 

Unless  this  last  attack  should  be  met  by  a  very 
determined  resistance,  there  appeared  every  pro- 
bability of  ttyeir  succeeding,  for  could  they  once 
gain  a  lodgment  on  the  walls,  they  might  easily 
drive  the  small  number  of  opponents  who  were 
likely  to  be  within  before  them.  A  determined 
band  at  last  led  the  way,  and  reached  the  summit 
of  the  walls.  They  were  there  met,  however,  by  a 
party  of  the  defenders  of  the  castle,  led  by  the  Earl 
himself.  Unaccustomed  to  the  use  of  swords,  the 
assailants  were  ill-able  to  defend  themselves,  as 
they  attempted  to  step  upon  the  parapet,  while  the 
fire  which  their  friends  kept  up  from  the  opposite 
side  of  the  bank,  killed  several  of  them,  though  the 
bullets  failed  to  strike  the  defenders ;  they  were 
therefore  quickly  hurled  down  again,  and  the  lead- 
ing men,  falling,  struck  the  others  who  were  at- 
tempting to  ascend,  when  all  were  precipitated  into 
the  ditch  together,  the  ladders  being  dislodged, 
and  thrown  down  upon  the  wounded  and  struggling 
mass.  They  had,  however,  too  nearly  succeeded  to 
abandon  their  project.  They  retreated  with  their 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  91 

ladders,  which  were  soon  repaired,  when  with  oth- 
ers in  the  meantime  constructed,  a  still  larger  force 
attempted  to  scale  the  walls. 

Had  we  followed  the  widow  and  her  son,  Dermot 
would  have  been  heard  expressing  his  satisfaction 
at  seeing  the  white  sails  of  the  frigate,  which  had 
so  lately  quitted  the  harbour,  once  more  approach- 
ing the  shore,  aided  by  a  strong  breeze  from  the 
north,  which  still  continued  to  blow.  The  insur- 
gents were  fortunately  too  much  occupied  in  their 
attack  on  the  castle  to  notice  her;  she  was,  how- 
ever, seen  by  its  defenders,  and  this  greatly  en- 
couraged them  in  their  resistance.  Again  the  reb- 
els began  to  climb  up  their  ladders, — this  time 
fully  believing  they  were  sure  of  success.  Already 
a  large  number  were  near  the  summit  threatening 
vengeance  on  the  heads  of  all  who  opposed  them, 
when  there  suddenly  arose  a  cry  in  their  rear,  of 
"  the  red  coats  !  the  red  coats."  "  Ay,  and  the  blue 
jackets  too  !  "  shouted  out  a  loud  voice.  - 

"  On  lads,  and  drive  the  rascals  into  the  sea." 
At  this  moment  a  strong  party  of  blue  jackets, 
headed  by  Captain  Falkner,  was  seen  darting  for- 
ward, while  a  body  of  marines  followed  with  fixed 
bayonets  ready  to  charge.  The  rebels  did  not  stop 
to  encounter  them.  Those  who  were  on  the  lad- 
ders leaped  hastily  down,  crushing  many  below 


92  Shore  and  Ocean. 

them,  and  then  attempted  to  seek  safety  in  flight. 
The  marines  and  blue  jackets  advanced  in  double- 
quick  time,  clearing  all  before  them.  Very  few  of 
the  rebels  offered  resistance,  and  those  who  did 
were  immediately  cut  down.  Many  were  taken 
prisoners,  O'Higgins  among  them,  and  the  rest 
throwing  down  their  arms,  headed  by  the  rest  of 
their  chiefs,  fled  as  fast  as  their  legs  could  carry 
them  into  the  country.  They  were  pursued  for 
some  distance,  when,  unwilling,  to  destroy  more  of 
the  misguided  men,  Captain  Falkner  ordered  the 
pursuit  to  cease,  and  returned  with  his  followers  to 
the  castle.  He  was  received  with  warm  thanks  by 
the  Earl.  It  was  extraordinary  that  not  a  single 
person  had  been  hurt  within  the  walls  of  the  castle, 
though  the  Earl  acknowledged  had  the  rebels  once 
succeeded  in  gaining  the  battlements,  he  could 
scarcely,  with  his  small  garrison,  have  hoped  to  de- 
fend it  against  the  numbers  which  would  have  as- 
sailed them.  Captain  Falkner  told  him  that  after 
he  had  left  the  bay,  a  fishing-boat  came  alongside 
with  only  one  man  in  her,  who  gave  him  the  infor- 
mation of  the  proposed  rising.  Although  he  did 
not  believe  that  the  castle  would  be  attacked,  he 
had  in  consequence  been  induced  to  return  as  quick- 
ly as  possible  to  an  anchorage  in  the  bay,  and  he 
was  thankful  that  he  had  not  come  back  too  late. 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  93 

Part  of  the  marines  remained  on  shore  to  strengthen 
the  garrison  of  the  castle,  and  strong  parties  were 
sent  out  in  all  directions,  to  ascertain  what  had  be- 
come of  the  rest  of  the  rebels. 

A  considerable  number  of  the  misguided  men 
were  captured,  but  most  of  their  leaders,  as  is  often 
the  case  under  similar  circumstances,  managed  to 
effect  their  escape.  The  state  of  the  country  made 
it  dangerous  to  send  the  prisoners  overland  to 
Cork,  they  were,  therefore,  placed  on  board  the 
Cynthia,  to  be  conveyed  there  by  sea.  O'Higgins 
had  contrived  to  divest  himself  of  part  of  his  dress 
before  he  was  captured,  and  owing  to  this  circum- 
stance, he  escaped  being  recognized  as  one  of  the 
leaders  of  the  rebels.  Had  Dermot  been  called 
upon  to  do  so,  he  would,  of  course,  have  been  able 
to  identify  him;  but  fortunately  for  him,  no  one 
thought  of  summoning  the  fish-wife's  young  son  to 
give  evidence,  and  he  was,  therefore,  allowed  to  re- 
main quietly  at  home. 

O'Higgins  took  the  name  of  Higson,  and  asserted 
that  he  was  a  pedler  travelling  through  the  coun- 
try, producing  a  license  in  confirmation  of  his 
statement,  but  had  been  compelled  by  the  rebels 
to  join  them.  Several  of  the  other  prisoners  were 
found  ready  to  swear  to  the  truth  of  this  statement. 
He,  however,  was  found  guilty;  but  instead  of  being 


94  Shore  and  Ocean. 

condemned  to  transportation  to  Botany  Bay,  was 
allowed  the  privilege  of  entering  as  a  seaman  on 
board  a  man-of-war.  He  accepted  the  alternative, 
hoping  before  long  to  make  his  escape.  He,  how- 
ever, was  too  narrowly  watched  to  succeed  in  his 
object;  and  after  being  sent  on  board  a  receiving 
ship,  was  curiously  enough  transferred  to  the  Cyn- 
thia, on  board  which  frigate  we  shall  soon  again 
hear  of  him. 

From  the  information  Captain  Falkner  received 
he  had  reason  to  believe  that  this  first  attempt  of 
the  insurgents  having  so  completely  failed,  and  so 
many  having  been  made  prisoners,  or  killed,  a  fur- 
ther rising  in  that  part  of  the  country  would  not  be 
attempted.  Still  the  disturbed  state  of  the  district 
prevented  the  ladies  from  riding  about  the  country 
as  had  been  their  custom,  and  the  Earl  would  not 
allow  his  young  son  to  .go  to  any  distance  from  the 
walls,  nor  even  a  short  way  without  a  strong  escort. 

Young  Fitz  Barry  consoled  himself,  therefore,  by 
frequent  visits  on  board  the  frigate,  where  he  soon 
became  a  great  favourite  with  the  officers.  "Ah  !" 
he  exclaimed,  "I  wish  my  father  would  let  me 
become  a  midshipman.  I  would  rather  go  to  sea, 
than  follow  any  other  profession  in  the  world." 
Those  were,  perhaps,  the  most  palmy  days  of  Eng- 
land's navy.  It  was  the  time  when  her  greatest 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  95 

heroes  were  flourishing,  and  the  profession  was 
looked  upon  as  among  the  noblest  a  youth  could 
follow. 

The  oftener  Fitz  Barry  visited  the  frigate,  the 
more  anxious  he  became  to  belong  to  her.  The 
midshipmen,  at  first,  encouraged  him  rather  as  a 
joke  than  in  earnest;  but  as  they  loved  the  profes- 
sion themselves,  they  were  somewhat  flattered  by 
finding  that  the  Earl's  son  wished  to  join  it  also. 
On  going  on' shore  one  day,  he  told  his  father  that 
he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  become  a  sailor.  The 
Earl  at  first  laughed  at  him,  but  he  had  never  been 
in  the  habit  of  thwarting  his  son,  and  when  Fitz 
Barry  assured  him  that  he  should  pine  and  perhaps 
die,  unless  he  was  allowed  to  have  his  will,  the  Earl 
declared  that  he  was  a  very  obstinate  boy,  but 
would  not  throw  any  objection  in  his  way.  Still, 
as  he  was  not  certain  that  his  father  was  in  earnest, 
he  went  to  Nora  and  Sophy,  to  get  them  to  assist 
in  pleading  his  cause.  Lady  Sophy  having  herself 
made  up  her  mind  to  marry  a  sailor,  thought  that 
there  was  not  a  finer  profession  to  be  followed,  and 
Nora,  who  loved  Fitz  Barry  with  all  her  heart, 
could  not  think  of  doing  otherwise  than  as  he 
wished.  Besides,  she  confessed  that  a  ship  was  a 
very  beautiful  thing,  and  that  she  thought  her  dear 
brother  must  be  happy  on  board,  for  little  did  the 


o/5  Shore  and  Ocean. 

young  ladies-  know  of  the  toils  and  dangers,  the 
hardships  and  the  sufferings  to  which  sailors  are 
exposed,  whatever  their  rank.  They  had  read  to 
be  sure  of  wrecks,  of  noble  ships  sinking  or  being 
burned,  of  men  being  castaway  on  desert  islands, 
with  little  or  no  food  on  which  to  subsist,  of  boats 
long  floating  on  the  ocean,  till  one  by  one  those 
on  board  had  died  of  starvation  or  thirst,  or  from 
the  exposure  they  were  doomed  to  endure.  To 
them  all  was  bright  and  attractive,  and  Fitz  Barry, 
therefore,  by  dint  of  importunity,  at  length  pre- 
vailed upon  his  easy-going  father,  to  allow  him  to 
join  Captain  Falkner's  beautiful  frigate,  the  Cyn- 
tliia,  provided  that  officer  would  take  him.  That 
matter  he  had  left  in  the  hands  of  his  cousin, 
Sophy,  and  he  had  no  doubt  that  she  would  in- 
duce the  captain  to  receive  him  on  board.  He 
was  perfectly  right  in  his  conjectures,  for  the  cap- 
tain, as  many  other  captains  would  have  been,  was 
very  ready  to  receive  an  Earl's  son  among  his  mid- 
shipmen. It  was  necessary  for  the  frigate  to  remain 
for  some  weeks  after  the  late  rising,  to  ascertain 
that  all  was  quiet  before  she  could  venture  to  quit 
the  bay. 

There  was  time,  therefore,  for  Barry  to  be  fitted 
out  for  sea,  and  at  length,  just  before  the  frigate 
sailed,  he  was  received  on  board  and  rated  as  a 


T/ie  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  97 

midshipman.  He  was  good-natured  and  unaffected, 
was  intelligent  and  zealous  in  his  new  profession, 
had,  moreover,  plenty  of  money,  and  these  qualities 
soon  made  him  a  favourite  with  most  of  the  officers 
on  board. 

Captain  Falkner  having  landed  his  prisoners  at 
Cork,  and  remained  there  till  their  trial  was  con- 
cluded, proceeded  on  to  Plymouth,  where  the 
young  midshipman  was  to  be  provided  with  the 
remainder  of  his  outfit.  The  Cynthia  was  em- 
ployed for  some  months  as  one  of  the  Channel 
fleet,  and  during  that  time  had  to  pay  several 
visits  to  the  coast  of  Ireland.  Captain  Falkner 
did  not  fail  to  look  into  Kilfinnan  Bay,  and  accom- 
panied by  Fitz  Barry,  to  pay  a  visit  to  the  castle.' 
Great  was  his  satisfaction  at  finding  that  the  fam- 
ily were  still  there,  as  he  had  thus  the  oppor- 
tunity of  enjoying  the  society  of  Lady  Sophy. 
Alas,  they  little  thought  how  long  would  be  the 
separation  they  must  after  this  endure.  Barry  hap- 
pened to  inquire  of  his  sister  what  had  become  of 
the  young  fisher-boy  who  was  so  nearly  hung  in- 
stead of  himself,  and  he  was  told  that  he  had  dis- 
appeared from  the  place,  and  that  no  one  knew 
what  had  become  of  him.  Such  indeed  was  the 
case.  Not  long  after  the  attack  of  the  rebels  on 
the  castle,  one  evening  when  the  widow  expected 
7 


c)S  Shore  and  Ocean. 

Dermot  to  return,  he  did  not  make  his  appearance. 
In  vain  she  waited  the  live-long  night;  no  Dermot 
•came  back  to  her.  She  watched  and  watchejd,  now 
she  went  to  the  cottage  door  and  stopped  to  listen; 
now  she  hastened  down  to  the  boat,  that,  how- 
ever, was  still  moored  in  its  accustomed  place. 
She  took  her  way  up  to  the  downs.  In  vain  she 
called  on  Dermot;  no  answer  came  to  her  calls. 
She  returned  home  to  mourn  and  to  wonder  what 
had  become  of  her  boy.  He  would  not  have  left 
his  mother  without  telling  her.  He  loved  her  too 
well,  she  was  sure  of  that,  and  yet  who  could  have 
carried  him  away  ?  Had  the  rebels  done  so  ? 
That  seemed  but  too  likely,  for  they  were  too 
often  wont  to  wreak  their  vengeance  on  the  heads 
even  of  those  who  could  do  them  no  further  harm. 
The  morning  came  and  found  her  still  sitting  at 
the  open  door,  waiting  for  the  return  of  her  boy. 
The  sun  rose  over  the  rugged  hill  and  shed  his 
rays  down  into  the  glen,  tinging  the  points  of  the 
rocks  on  either  side,  and  casting  a  bright  glow  over 
the  ocean;  still  Dermot  did  not  appear.  She  deter- 
mined to  go  forth  and  search  for  him,  but  whither 
should  she  go  ?  He  might  have  gone  to  the  castle, 
but  they  surely  would  not  have  detained  him  be- 
yond the  night,  and  he  must  soon  then  come  back. 
She  waited  all  day,  but  when  the  night  came  on 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  99 

he  had  not  appeared.  Weary  and  sad  she  sat  down 
on  the  bench  by  the  fireside,  and  there  at  length 
fell  asleep.  She  awoke  by  being  conscious  that 
some  one  was  present,  and  looking  up  saw  by  the 
light  of  the  log  which  still  blazed  on  the  hearth, 
the  figure  of  poor  mad  Kathleen  sitting  before  her. 

"  You  are  sad,  widow — you  are  sad,"  exclaimed 
the  mad  girl;  "it  is  waiting  for  your  son  you  are; 
and  do  you  think  that  he  will  ever  return  ?  It  may 
be  he  will,  but  you  will  have  many  weary  years  to 
wait  until  then." 

"  What  do  you  know  of  my  boy  ?  "  exclaimed  the 
widow.  "Tell  me,  Kathleen,  tell  me,  girl,  has  any 
harm  happened  to  him  ? " 

"No;  the  harm  is  that  he  was  weary  of  home, 
and  has  gone  far  away,  so  I  understand,  if  my  poor 
brain  has  not  misled  me.  Here,  see,  he  gave  me 
this,  and  told  me  to  bring  it  to  you.  It  will  tell 
you  far  more  than  I  can;  it  speaks  words,  though  I 
cannot  understand  them." 

"No  more  can  I,"  cried  the  widow  in  a  tone  of 
grief.  "Oh,  that  he  should  have  gone  away  and 
left  his  poor  mother;  but  maybe  in  these  lines  he 
will  have  told  me  why  he  has  gone  and  when  he 
will  come  back.  Still  I  do  not  know  that  I -could 
have  borne  the  parting  from  him  even  had  he  gone 
with  my  consent.  But  those  lines,  girl,  let  me 


ioo  Shore  and  Ocean. 

have  them;  there  are  others  can  read  them  though 
I  cannot.  I  wish  it  were  the  day,  that  I  might  go 
forth  and  find  some  one  to  help  me." 

The  widow  took  the  paper  which  the  mad  girl 
gave  her;  it  was  a  letter  of  considerable  length. 
As  Dermot  knew  that  his  mother  could  not  have 
read  it  herself,  he  must  have  trusted  to  her  finding 
some  person  to  perform  that  office  for  her. 

The  widow  begged  Kathleen  to  rest  in  her  hut 
that  night,  hoping  that  she  might,  during  the  time, 
gather  some  more  information  from  her  about  her 
son.  All  she  could  learn,  however,  was,  that  she 
had  met  Dermot  on  the  way  to  the  south,  some  dis- 
tance beyond  the  castle,  and  that  he  had  given  her. 
that  letter,  which  he  intended  otherwise  to  have 
sent  by  the  post.  Poor  Kathleen  then  launched  out 
in  his  praises,  and  declared  that  she  had  never  seen 
a  lord  his  equal  in  these  parts.  The  widow's  first 
impulse  was  to  go  and  seek  for  Father  O'Rourke, 
the  person  to  whom  the  peasantry,  whenever  they 
had  any  document  to  be  read,  generally  resorted. 
She  remembered,  however,  his  dislike  to  Dermot 
and  the  words  of  anger  with  which  they  had  parted 
from  each  other,  and  she  therefore  felt  a  repugnance 
to  let  him  see  what  her  Dermot  might  have  said  to 
her.  "Then  there  is  the  blind  lady,"  she  thought 
to  herself;  "she  cannot  see  to  read,  however. 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  101 

Then  there  is  the  sweet  young  lady  who  came  here 
from  the  castle  one  day,  and  the  little  girl,  the 
.Earl's  daughter,  but  they  are  too  grand  to  care  for 
what  a  poor  boy  like  Dermot  has  to  say.  I  will  go, 
therefore,  to  Mr.  Jamieson,  and  get  him  to  read  the 
letter.  He  is  kind  and  gentle  too,  and  maybe  he 
will  give  me  a  word  of  comfort  about  my  boy.  Still 
I  cannot  understand  why  Dermot  should  have  gone 
away  without  saying  a  word  of  farewell  to  his  poor 
old  mother." 

Kathleen,  for  a  wonder,  gladly  consented  to  rest 
at  the  widow's  cottage  till  the  next  morning.  They 
then  together  took  their  way  to  the  vicarage.  The 
widow  found  Mr.  Jamieson  about  to  leave  the  house, 
yet  he  kindly  stopped  to  hear  what  she  had  to  say 
to  him.  She  presented  the  letter,  and  telling  him 
that  she  had  only  received  it  on  the  previous  even- 
ing, begged  him  to  read  it  to  her.  He  at  onee  rec- 
ognized the  handwriting  of  his  pupil. 

"Ah,  Widow  O'Neil,"  he  exclaimed,  "I  find  by 
this  that  your  son  is  away,  and  you  must  be  pre- 
pared not  to  see  him  for  some  time.  I  scarcely  like 
to  say  that  the  lad  has  acted  wrongly  in  what  he 
has  done.  He  tells  you,  Mrs.  O'Neil,  how  he  loves 
you,  that  he  would  die  for  you,  and  that  his  great 
object  is  to  go  into  the  world,  and  to  make  a  for- 
tune, and  come  home  and  support  you.  He  says 


IO2  Shore  and  Ocean. 

that  he  could  not  bring  himself  to  go  through  the 
pain  of  wishing  you  farewell.  He  would  rather  go 
away  without  saying  a  word  about  it,  or  letting  you 
know  what  were  his  intentions,  for  he  is  sure  you 
would  not  have  prevented  him,  and  he  would  do 
anything  to  save  you  and  himself  from  the  agony  of 
the  parting  moment.  I  believe  him,  widow.  I  am 
sure  that  he  has  a  gentle  and  a  loving  heart,  and 
that  he  speaks  the  truth  when  he  gives  that  as  his 
reason  for  going  away  without  seeing  you.  Yet  it 
was  to  save  you,  rather  than  himself,  for  he  must 
have  known  when  he  left  his  home,  that  he  was 
gazing  his  last  at  you  for  many  a  day.  Of  one 
thing  I  am  certain,  that  his  heart  will  not  change, 
his  love  will  not  alter,  and  that  wherever  he  goes, 
you  will  be  the  chief  person  he  will  always  think  of, 
and  that  he  will  look  forward  to  seeing  you  again,  as 
the  greatest  joy  which  can  be  allowed  him  on  earth." 
The  good  minister  believed  that  he  spoke  the  truth, 
when  he  thus  attempted  to  comfort  the  bereaved 
mother.  The  widow  returned  home  feeling  more 
consoled  than  could  have  been  expected,  for  the 
loss  of  Dermot.  Kind  Miss  O'Reilly  continued  to 
pay  her  frequent  visits,  and  while  the  young  ladies 
remained  at  the  castle,  they  rode  over  under  an  es- 
cort several  times  to  see  her.  They  heard  with 
surprise  of  Dermot's  departure,  and  at  first  were  in- 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  103 

dined  to  think  him  hard-hearted  and  ungrateful, 
but  so  ably  did  the  widow  defend  her  son,  that  they 
soon  agreed  with  her  it  was  but  natural  a  boy  like 
Dermot  should  seek  to  see  more  of  the  world  than 
he  could  in  that  remote  part  of  Ireland. 

The  Cynthia  had  been  stationed  for  some  months 
on  the  Irish  coast,  when  she  stood  for  the  last  time 
into  the  bay,  before  taking  her  departure. 

As  Captain  Falkner  had  had  an  opportunity  of  let- 
ting the  Earl  know  his  purpose,  a  large  party  were 
collected  at  the  castle,  to  bid  him  and  the  young 
hero  farewell.  Those  were  the  days  of  profuse  Irish 
hospitality;  the  gentlemen  with  their  wives  and 
families  for  many  miles  around  had  assembled. 

The  morning  was  spent  in  all  sorts  of  sports,  and 
the  evening  in  conviviality.  Frequently  a  stag  was 
turned  out  from  a  neighbouring  thicket,  when  a 
long  run,  sometimes  across  rivers,  up  and  down 
hills,  by  the  borders  of  lakes,  and  over  the  roughest 
imaginable  ground,  took  place.  Many  falls  were  the 
consequence,  in  spite  of  the  sturdy  character  of  the 
horses,  and  the  admirable  riding  of  the  men,  but 
few  were  present  who  had  not  seen  a  companion 
dislocate  his  shoulder,  and  not  unfrequently  termi- 
nate his  career  with  a  broken  neck.  It  was  not 
unusual  to  see  a  hundred  horses  stabled  in  the  cas- 
tle at  a  time,  some  of  them  belonging  to  the  Earl, 


IO4  Shore  and  Ocean. 

but  a  considerable  number  to  his  guests,  and  the 
profuse  hospitality  of  those  days  demanded  that  all 
the  attendants  should  be  well  cared  for  within  the 
walls  of  the  castle.  The  dinner  hour  was  somewhat 
early,  that  a  longer  period  might  be  devoted  to  the 
after  carousal.  The  cellars  usually  contained  nu- 
merous hogsheads  of  claret,  whilst  stronger  wines 
and  whisky  were  on  hand  for  those  of  less  refined 
tastes.  But  the  Irish  gentleman  rather  prided  him- 
self on  the  quantity  of  claret  he  could  imbibe,  and 
yet  be  able  to  retire  with  steady  steps  to  bed,  or  if 
necessary  to  mount  his  horse  and  return  home  by 
cross  roads  without  breaking  his  neck,  or  rinding 
himself  at  sunrise  just  waking  out  of  sleep  in  a  dry 
ditch. 

Although  the  Earl  himself  did  not  over-indulge 
in  the  pleasures  of  the  table,  he  had  been  too  long 
habituated  to  the  custom  to  discourage  it  in  others, 
and  thus  his  legitimate  income  was  inadequate  to 
supply  the  expenses  of  the  profuse  hospitality  he 
kept  up. 

The  ladies  retired  early  from  the  table,  when  the 
slight  restraint  their  presence  imposed  being  re- 
moved, the  bottle  began  to  circulate  even  more 
freely  than  before.  Songs  were  sung,  toasts  were 
given,  and  the  health  of  the  young  heir  of  Kilfinnan 
was  drunk  with  uproarious* cheers.  "May  he  be  as 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  105 

fine  a  man  as  his  father,  and  an  honour  to  the 
noble  profession  he  has  chosen,  though  faith  !  I'd 
rather  he  followed  it  than  I  myself,"  exclaimed  a 
red-nosed  squire  from  the  lower  end  of  the  table. 
"May  he  live  to  see  his  grandchildren  around  him, 
and  may  the  old  castle  stand  as  long  as  the  round 
world  endures." 

"Sure  a  finer  young  sailor  never  placed  foot  qn 
the  deck  of  a  man-of-war,"  echoed  another  land- 
owner of  the  same  stamp.  "May  he  come  back  a 
captain  at  the  least,  and  take  the  lead  in  the  field 
in  many  a  hard  day's  run."  Similar  compliments 
were  uttered  in  succession  for  some  time.  Fitz 
Barry  took  them  very  quietly,  indeed  he  at  length 
became  utterly  weary  of  the  proceedings.  In  truth 
also,  the  thoughts  of  leaving  home  and  his  sweet 
young  sister  and  his  cousin  Sophy,  whom  he  loved 
like  one,  made  him  somewhat  sad,  and  little  able  to 
enter  into  the  conversation  going  forward.  He  did 
not,  however,  allow  either  Sophy  or  Nora  to  dis- 
cover how  much  he  felt. 

The  next  morning,  farewells  over,  he  went  on 
board  the  frigate,  without  much  prospect  of  return- 
ing home  for  three  years  or  more.  As  she  under  all 
sail  stood  out  of  the  bay,  he  cast  many  a  lingering 
glance  at  the  old  castle,  and  the  well-known  bold 
outlines  of  the  shore.  At  Plymouth,  to  which  port 


io6  Shore  and  Ocean. 

the  frigate  had  been  ordered  to  proceed,  several 
fresh  hands  were  entered  to  make  up  the  comple- 
ment of  her  proper  crew.  They  were  of  all  descrip- 
tions, but  Captain  Falkner  soon  discovered  that 
there  was  scarcely  a  seaman  among  them.  Officers 
in  those  days,  when  men  were  scarce,  had  to  form 
their  crews  out  of  the  most  heterogeneous  mate- 
rials. He  was  receiving  a  report  of  them  from  his 
first  lieutenant.  "Here  is  a  fellow,  sir.  He  has 
been  sent  to  us  from  the  tender,  and  has  entered 
under  the  name  Higson,  and  says  he  is  an  English- 
man, though  he  is  evidently  Irish  by  his  tongue, 
and  the  cut  of  his  features  and  general  appearance 
from  head  to  foot.  He  knows  little  enough  of  a 
seaman's  duties,  but  is  a  stout,  strong  fellow,  and 
we  may  in  time  lick  him  into  shape.  I  am  advised 
to  keep  an  eye  on  him  while  we  remain  in  harbour, 
lest  he  should  take  French  leave,  and  forget  to  re- 
turn on  board." 

"We  must  keep  him,"  answered  the  captain;  "we 
are  bound  for  the  West  Indies,  you  know,  and  shall 
require  every  man  we  can  lay  hold  of." 

This  settled  the  point — O'Higgins  the  rebel  lead- 
er, or  rather  Higson,  as  he  called  himself,  was  regu- 
larly entered  on  the  books  of  the  Cynthia.  He,  in 
vain,  made  several  efforts  to  escape;  once  he  nar- 
rowly escaped  being  shot  in  the  attempt.  He  had 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  107 

jumped  into  a  boat  at  night,  and  was  pulling  away 
from  the  ship  when  he  was  overtaken,  and  being 
brought  back  was  put  into  irons  till  the  frigate 
sailed.  Had  he  been  in  Cork  harbour,  he  would 
have  had  little  difficulty  in  effecting  his  purpose. 
Hearing,  however,  that  a  son  of  the  Earl  of  Kil- 
finnan was  on  board,  he  consoled  himself  with  the 
reflection  that  he  should  have  an  opportunity  of 
wreaking  his  vengeance  on  the  head  of  the  mid- 
shipman. How  the  lad  had  in  any  way  given  him 
cause  of  offence,  none  but  a  distorted  imagination 
could  have  supposed.  He  had  certainly  attempted 
for  a  very  indefinite  object  of  his  own  to  burn  down 
the  Earl's  residence  and  to  murder  the  inhabitants, 
and  because  he  had  been  foiled  in  the  attempt, 
captured  and  punished,  he  persuaded  himself  that 
he  was  fully  justified,  in  desiring  to  kill  or  injure 
the  Earl's  unoffending  son.  Such,  however,  was 
the  style  of  reasoning  in  which  so-called  Irish  pa- 
triots of  those  days,  and,  perhaps,  in  later  times, 
were  apt  to  indulge. 

At  length,  powder  and  stores  having  been  re- 
ceived on  board,  and  two  or  three  gun-room  officers 
and  several  passed  midshipmen  having  joined,  the 
Cynthia  made  sail,  and  standing  out  of  the  harbour, 
a  course  was  shaped  for  the  West  Indies,  her  des- 
tined station. 


io8  Shore  and  Ocean. 

The  frigate  had  been  for  some  time  at  sea,  and 
during  a  light  wind  she  fell  in  with  a  homeward 
bound  merchantman.  These  were  the  days  of  the 
press-gang,  and  under  such  circumstances  every 
merchantman  was  visited,  that  the  seamen  on  board 
who  had  not  a  protection  might  be  carried  off  to 
serve  in  the  Royal  Navy.  This  was  a  cruel  regula- 
tion, but,  at  the  same  time,  it  seemed  the  only 
feasible  one  to  our  forefathers  for  manning  the 
king's  ships.  Often  good  men  were  thus  picked  up, 
but  more  frequently  bad  and  discontented  ones. 
The  merchant  ship  was  ordered  to  heave  to,  and 
the  second  lieutenant,  with  a  boat's  crew  armed  to 
the  teeth,  went  on  board.  The  whole  of  the  crew 
were  directed  to  come  up  on  deck.  Their  names 
were  called  over,  and  three  able  seamen  were  found 
who  did  not  possess  a  protection.  They  were  im- 
mediately ordered  to  go  over  the  side  into  the  boat. 

"Are  there  any  others  who  wish  to  volunteer  on 
board  ? "  asked  the  lieutenant.  There  was  some 
hesitation  among  them,  when  two  youngsters 
stepped  forward  in  front  of  the  rest.  The  mas- 
ter endeavoured  to  prevent  them  from  speaking; 
but  the  lieutenant  telling  them  to  say  what  they 
wished,  they  at  once  begged  that  they  might  be 
allowed  to  join  the  frigate.  They  were  both  fine 
active-looking  lads,  and  seemed  cut  out  to  make 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  109 

first-rate  seamen.  The  lieutenant  eyed  them  with 
approbation. 

"  You  will  do,  my  lads,"  he  observed.  "  In  a 
couple  of  years  or  less,  you  will  make  active 
topmen." 

The  master  was  very  indignant  at  being  thus 
deprived  of  part  of  his  crew;  but  he  had  no  rem- 
edy, and  was  obliged  to  submit. 

"  A  pleasant  voyage  to  you,  Captain  Dobson," 
said  the  lieutenant.  "  You  will  manage  to  find 
your  way  up  Channel  without  these  few  men  I 
have  taken  from  you,  and  depend  upon  it  they 
will  be  better  off  than  they  would  have  been  spend- 
ing their  time  at  Wapping  until  all  their  money 
was  gone;"  a  truth  which  even  the  master  could 
not  deny. 

The  merchantman  sailed  on  her  way,  and  the  boat 
having  returned  on  board  the  frigate,  was  hoisted 
up  again,  when  her  sails  being  trimmed,  the  Cyn- 
thia once  more  stood  on  her  course.  The  new- 
comers soon  made  themselves  at  home  with  the 
crew.  Those  who  watched  the  lads  might  have 
seen  an  expression  of  astonishment  pass  over  the 
countenance  of  one  of  them  when  he  found  himself 
on  board  the  Cynthia.  Soon  after  this  they  were 
brought  up  before  the  first  lieutenant,  to  undergo 
the  usual  examination.  He  soon  finished  with  the 


no  Shore  and  Ocean. 

men,  who  had  the  ordinary  account  to  give  of 
themselves.  One  of  the  young  lads  said  he  be- 
longed to  Dartmouth  in  England,  and  that  having 
run  away  from  home  he  had  joined  the  merchant- 
man, from  which  he  had  volunteered,  and  he  was 
entered  by  the  name  of  Ned  Davis. 

"And  what  is  your  name,  my  lad?"  he  asked, 
turning  to  the  youngest  of  the  two. 

"  Charles  Denham,  sir,"  he  answered. 

"That  is  an  English  name,  and  you  speak  with 
an  Irish  accent." 

"  My  mother  was  an  Irish  woman,"  answered  the 
lad,  with  a  blush  on  his  face. 

"And  who  was  your  father,  then?"  asked  the 
lieutenant. 

"  Sir,  I  came  on  board  to  serve  his  Majesty,  and  I 
hope  to  do  so  faithfully,"  replied  the  lad,  as  if  he  had 
not  heard  the  question  put  to  him. 

"  There  is  some  of  the  true  metal  in  that  boy," 
observed  the  first  lieutenant,  turning  to  an  officer 
near  him.  ".I  must  keep  an  eye  upon  him.  He 
will  make  a  smart  seaman  in  a  short  time.  He  is 
just  one  after  the  captain's  own  heart." 

The  young  volunteer  did  not  hear  these  observa- 
tions, or  they  would  have  given  him  the  encourage- 
ment of  which  he  somewhat  felt  the  want.  The 
lads  were  told  their  numbers  and  the  mess  to  which 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  in 

they  would  belong.  Ned  Davis  and  Charles  Den- 
ham  returned  together  to  the  lower  deck.  They 
found,  after  they  had  been  some  time  below,  that 
the  crew  were  far  from  satisfied  with  their  officers. 
They  discovered  that  the  ringleader  was  a  certain 
John  Higson,  who  was  ready  to  find  fault  with 
everything  that  took  place.  He  was  what  is  gener- 
ally called  at  sea,  "  a  king's  hard  bargain,"  or  in 
other  words,  not  worth  his  salt.  He  was  one  of 
those  men  who  do  a  great  deal  of  mischief  on  board 
a  ship,  and  are  generally  known  by  the  name  of  "  a 
sea  lawyer."  The  two  lads,  however,  seemed  re- 
solved to  do  their  duty  in  spite  of  anything  that 
might  occur.  They  had  before,  it  appeared,  heard 
Captain  Falkner  spoken  of,  and  knew  he  had  the 
character  of  being  a  just  officer,  though  somewhat 
strict.  It  soon  appeared,  indeed,  that  he  had  a  very 
unruly  ship's  company  to  deal  with,  and  one  that 
required  a  good  deal  of  management  to  bring  into 
order.  Had  it  not  been  for  Higson,  and  other  men 
like  him,  this  might  easily  have  been  accomplished; 
but  whatever  was  done  Higson  was  sure  to  put  a 
wrong  interpretation  upon  it.  Still  the  best  men 
found  themselves  well  treated,  and  spoken  kindly 
to  by  their  officers.  By  degrees  flogging  decreased, 
though  occasionally  some  were  brought  up  to  suffer 
that  punishment.  In  those  days  an  officer  might 


112  Shore  and  Ocean. 

order  it  to  be  inflicted  on  any  one  of  the  crew,  and 
sometimes  this  was  done  for  slight  offences.  Cap- 
tain Falkner,  however,  reserved  it  for  those  who 
seemed  determined  to  neglect  their  duty,  or  to  get 
drunk,  or  to  act  disrespectfully  to  their  officers. 
Higson  was  himself  too  clever  ever  to  get  punished, 
though  more  than  once  he  was  the  cause  of  others 
becoming  sufferers.  At  length  the  West  Indies 
were  reached,  and  the  frigate  brought  up  in  Kings- 
ton Harbour,  Jamaica. 

Unfortunately,  Captain  Falkner  was  taken  ill,  and 
it  became  necessary  for  him  to  go  and  reside  on 
shore.  The  first  lieutenant,  though  a  kind  officer, 
had  not  the  talent  of  his  superior,  and  thus  the  ship 
once  more  fell  into  the  condition  in  which  it  had 
previously  been.  It  being  found  that  Captain  Falk- 
ner did  not  recover,  the  admiral  of  the  station  or- 
dered the  Cynthia  to  put  to  sea  under  the  com- 
mand of  the  first  lieutenant.  She  cruised  for  some 
time  in  search  of  an  enemy,  but  none  was  to  be 
found,  and  sickness  breaking  out  on  board,  a  good 
many  of  the  men  were  laid  up  in  their  hammocks. 
Meantime,  young  Lord  Fitz  Barry  had  become  a 
great  favourite  with  his  brother  officers  on  board. 
Indeed,  from  his  youth  he  was  somewhat  of  a  pet 
among  them.  He  was  not  a  little  made  of  by  the 
first  lieutenant  and  the  other  officers,  not  so  much 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  113 

because  he  was  a  lord,  but  because  he  was  a  kind- 
hearted,  generous  little  fellow.  He  had,  however, 
been  imbued  by  his  captain  with  very  strict  notions 
of  duty,  and,  young  as  he  was,  when  sent  away 
with  a  boat's  crew  he  kept  them  in  as  strict  order 
as  any  of  the  older  midshipmen  could  have  done. 
On  one  occasion  when  sent  on  shore  to  bring  off 
wood  and  water  from  an  uninhabited  part  of  the 
southern  shore  of  St.  Domingo,  some  of  his  boat's 
crew  insisted  on  going  up  into  the  interior.  His 
orders  had  been  not  to  allow  them  to  go  out  of 
sight  of  the  boat,  and  should  any  person  appear 
from  the  shore,  immediately  to  shove  off  and  return 
to  the  ship.  When,  however,  they  were  told  by 
Fitz  Barry  to  remain  where  they  were,  they  laughed 
at  him,  and  began  to  move  off  into  the  country.  He 
instantly  drew  a  pistol  from  his  "belt,  and  hastened 
after  them,  threatening  to  shoot  .the  nearest  man  if 
they  did  not  instantly  return.  Still  they  persevered, 
and  according  to  his  threat  the  young  lord  fired  his 
pistol,  and  hit  one  of  the  mutineers  in  the  arm,  and 
immediately  drawing  a  second  pistol  he  threatened 
to  treat  another  in  the  same  way.  This  brought  the 
mutineers  to  reason,  and  turning  round  they  sulkily 
followed  him  towards  the  boat.  Here  the  wounded 
man  insisted  on  having  his  revenge,  and  tried  to 
persuade  the  rest  of  the  boat's  crew  to  throw  the 


H4  Shore  and  Ocean. 

young  lord  overboard.  The  two  lads  who  had  come 
on  board  from  the  merchantman  had  been  appointed 
to  the  boat,  both  of  them  by  this  time  being  strong 
enough  to  pull  an  oar.  They,  however,  instead  of 
siding  with  the  rest  of  the  crew,  had  remained  in 
the  boat,  and  declared  that  if  a  hand  was  laid  upon 
Lord  Fitz  Barry,  they  would  denounce  the  rest  to 
their  commander. 

"And  we  will  heave  you  youngsters  overboard 
with  him,"  exclaimed  the  men,  enraged  at  being 
thus  opposed. 

"At  your  peril,"  answered  Charles  Denham;  "I 
am  not  one  to  be  cowed  by  your  threats.  The  man 
who  was  shot  only  got  his  deserts,  and  it  will  serve 
you  all  right  if  Lord  Fitz  Barry  reports  you  when 
he  gets  on  board." 

This  plain  speaking  still  further  enraged  the  rest 
of  the  boat's  crew.  At  the  same  time,  unless  they 
had  been  prepared  to  kill  their  young  officer  and 
the  two  lads,  they  had  no  resource  but  to  submit. 
They  had  pulled  off  some  little  distance  from  the 
shore  when  they  again  threatened  to  throw  all 
three  overboard,  unless  they  would  promise  not  to 
report  them.  This  Lord  Fitz  Barry  refused  to  do. 

"  No,"  he  said,  keeping  the  other  pistol  in  his 
hand.  "  It  is  for  me  to  command  you.  You  dis- 
obeyed orders  and  now  must  take  the  consequences." 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  115 

He  reflected  that  if  he  returned  and  let  their 
conduct  go  unpunished,  it  might  lead  to  still  more 
serious  disobedience.  He,  therefore,  as  soon  as  he 
got  on  board,  reported  the  whole  affair  to  the  com- 
manding officer,  at  the  same  time  taking  care  to 
praise  the  two  lads  who  had  so  bravely  stood  by 
him.  The  consequence  was,  that  the  whole  of  the 
boat's  crew  were  brought  to  the  gangway  and 
severely  flogged. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

r~pHE  effect  of  the  severe,  though  just,  punish- 
•^  ment  inflicted  on  the  boat's  crew  who  had 
misbehaved  themselves  under  the  command  of 
Lord  Fitz  Barry  was  to  produce  much  ill-will 
among  a  considerable  number  of  the  crew,  in- 
creased, as  before,  by  Higson's  instigations.  The  . 
officers  were  not  aware,  however,  of  what  was  tak- 
ing place.  The  men,  although  sometimes  exhibit- 
ing sulky  looks  when  ordered  about  their  duty, 
continued  to  perform  it  as  usual.  The  two  young 
volunteers,  it  appeared,  had  been  better  brought 
up  than  the  generality  of  seamen.  Both,  from 
their  earliest  days,  had  been  accustomed  to  offer 
up  a  prayer  before  turning  in  at  night.  This  prac- 
tice on  board  a  man-of-war  it  was  very  difficult, 
if  not  almost  impossible,  to  keep  up.  They  agreed, 
however,  that  they  would  steal  down  when  they 
could  to  the  fore-part  of  the  orlop  deck,  and  there, 
in  a  quiet  corner  near  the  boatswain's  store-room, 
they  might  have  the  opportunity  of  kneeling  down 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  117 

together,  and  offering  up  their  prayers  in  silence. 
This  practice  they  had  continued  unsuspected  for 
some  time.  In  those  days  such  a  thing  was  al- 
most unheard  of  on  board  a  man-of-war.  At  the 
present  time,  however,- there  are  not  only  many 
praying  seamen  on  board  ship,  but  prayer  meetings 
are  often  held,  and  a  very  considerable  number  of 
some  ships'  crews  are  now  able  to  join  them. 

On  one  occasion,  after  it  had  been  blowing  hard, 
and  the  lads  had  been  aloft  for  a  considerable  time, 
they  were  both  very  weary,  and  after  kneeling  down 
and  offering  up  their  prayers  as  usual,  they  leaned 
back,  sitting  on  the  coils  of  a  cable,  with  the  inten- 
tion of  talking  together.  In  a  short  time,  however, 
both  fell  asleep.  How  long  they  slept  they  did  not 
know,  but  they  were  awoke  by  hearing  voices'  near 
them  ;  without  difficulty  they  recognized  the  speak- 
ers. Higson  was  among  the  principal  of  them;  they 
listened  attentively;  had  they  been  discovered,  they 
felt  sure,  from  what  they  heard,  that  their  lives 
would  have  paid  the  forfeit.  It  was  proposed  to 
seize  the  ship  and  put  the  officers  on  shore,  or 
should  they  offer  any  resistance  to  kill  them,  as  had 
in  another  instance  been  done,  and  then  after  going 
on  a  buccaneering  cruise,  to  carry  the  ship  into  an 
American  port  and  sell  her,  the  men  hoping  to  get 
on  shore  to  enjoy  their  ill-gotten  booty. 


n8  Shore  and  Ocean. 

A  few  years  before  this  a  large  portion  of  the 
English  fleet  had  mutinied,  but  they  had  had  many 
causes  of  complaint;  still  their  crime  was  inex- 
cusable. Most  of  the  ringleaders  suffered  punish- 
ment, and  the  crews  were,  pardoned.  This  lesson 
seemed  to  be  lost,  however,  upon  Higson  and  his 
associates.  They  had  inflamed  each  other's  minds 
with  descriptions  of  the  pleasures  they  would  enjoy 
on  shore,  and  of  the  hardships  they  had  at  pres- 
ent to  undergo.  The  young  lads  dared  not  move. 
Every  moment  they  expected  to  be  discovered. 
Some  of  the  mutineers,  more  sanguine  than  the 
rest,  expressed  their  determination  to  wreak  their 
vengeance  upon  those  who  had  chiefly  offended 
them,  and  young  Lord  Fitz  Barry,  with  several 
others,  were  singled  out  to  undergo  the  punishment 
of  death.  The  first  lieutenant  also  was  to  be  among 
their  victims.  The  lads  could  not  tell  what  hour  it 
was,  nor  how  long  they  would  have  to  remain  in 
their  present  position.  They  dreaded  that  the  mu- 
tineers would  instantly  go  on  deck  and  carry  out 
their  nefarious  plans.  Young  Denham's  chief  wish 
was  to  hurry  off  and  warn  those  who  had  been 
chiefly  threatened.  "If  the  officers  have  time  to 
show  a  bold  front,  the  men  will  not  dare  to  act 
against  them,"  he  thought;  "but  if  they  are  taken 
by  surprise,  the  mutineers  will  treat  them  as  wild 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  119 

beasts  treat  the  animals  which  they  have  caught 
in  their  clutches,  and  will  be  sure  to  tear  them  in 
pieces.  If  they  once  get  the  upper  hand,  they  will 
kill  them  all,  just  as  they  did  in  the  ship  I  have 
heard  of,  when  scarcely  one  officer  was  allowed  to 
escape."  At  length  they  heard  the  morning  watch 
called,  and  not  till  then  did  the  mutineers  leave  the 
place.  The  lads  waited  till  they  believed  that  ev- 
erybody was  on  deck,  and  then  cautiously  climbing 
up  the  ladder,  stole  away  to  their  own  hammocks. 
As  the  middle  watch  was  only  then  turning  in,  they 
were  not  observed,  and  they  lay  there  till  they  con- 
cluded that  all  those  surrounding  them  had  gone  to 
sleep.  Denham  then  proposed  going  and  warning 
the  officers.  Ned  Davis  begged  that  he  himself 
might  go. 

"No,"  said  Denham,  "I  will  go  alone  and  tell 
the  commander  what  I  have  heard."  Denham  had 
scarcely  got  as  far  as  the  door  of  the  captain's 
cabin,  now  occupied  by  the  first  lieutenant,  when 
the  sentry  stopped  him. 

"You  cannot  pass  here,"  he  said  putting  him 
back  as  he,  in  his  eagerness,  pressed  on. 

"But  I  tell  you  I  have  a  matter  of  importance 
to  speak  to  the  commander  about,"  said  Denham 
boldly.  "  It  will  be  at  your  own  risk  if  you 
stop  me." 


I2O  Shore  and  Ocean. 

"You  can  tell  one  of  the  other  officers  in  the 
gun-room,"  said  the  sentry. 

"No;  it  is  for  the  commanding  officer  alone,"  re- 
sponded Denham.  "I  will  speak  to  him  only." 

Just  then  the  first  lieutenant  himself  appeared  at 
the  door. 

"I  want  to  speak  to  you,  sir,"  said  Denham 
eagerly. 

"Come  in.  What  is  it  about?"  inquired  the  first 
lieutenant. 

"If  you  will  go  where  no  one  else  will  hear  me, 
I  will  tell  you,  sir." 

The  lieutenant  retired  into  the  inner  cabin. 

"Now,  what  is  it,  my  lad?"  he  asked. 

Denham  then  told  him  of  the  plot  to  which  he 
had  become  privy,  for  taking  the  ship  from  the 
officers.  In  later  days  such  information  would  have 
been  laughed  at,  but  unhappily  in  those  days  such 
occurrences  had  become  too  frequent  to  allow  the 
commanding  officer  to  disbelieve  his  statements. 

"Stay  here,  my  lad,"  said  the  first  lieutenant, 
"if  you  go  forward  again,  and  the  men  suspect  you 
of  having  informed  against  them,  you  will  be  among 
the  first  victims." 

Arming  himself  with  a  brace  of  pistols,  and  tak- 
ing his  sword  .in  his  hand,  he  went  into  the  gun- 
room. He  here  aroused  the  officers  and  telling 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  121 

them  what  he  had  heard,  ordered  them  immedi- 
ately to  repair  on  deck,  sending  some  of  them  to 
call  up  the  midshipmen  and  the  warrant  officers. 
The  marines  were  then  ordered  to  muster  on  deck 
under  arms,  while  several  of  the  petty  officers  whom 
it  was  known  could  be  trusted  were  also  called  aft; 
a  guard  was  then  placed  over  the  magazine,  and 
the  two  after  guns  were  hauled  in  and  trained  for- 
ward. These  preparations  were  made  so  suddenly 
and  quietly  that  even  the  watch  on  deck  were  scarce- 
ly aware  of  what  was  going  forward.  There  was 
no  time  to  lose,  for  while  those  preparations  were 
going  on,  Ned  Davis,  who  had  been  on  the  watch, 
made  his  way  aft  with  the  information  that  a  num- 
ber of  the  men  were  collecting  together  forward, 
armed  with  all  the  weapons  they  could  lay  hold  of, 
and  that  from  the  threats  they  were  uttering  they 
evidently  intended  to  make  a  sudden  dash  aft,  in 
the  expectation  of  surprising  the  officers  before  they 
had  left  their  berths.  It  was  very  evident  that  they 
would  have  done  so  had  it  not  been  for  the  warning 
conveyed  by  Denham. 

When  the  sun,  as  it  does  in  those  latitudes,  sud- 
denly burst  above  the  waters,  and  darkness  rapidly 
gave  place  to  daylight,  the  officers  and  the  ma- 
rines were  found  drawn  up  on  the  quarter  deck,  and 
the  mutineers  who,  at  that  moment,  made  a  sudden 


122  Shore  and  Ocean. 

rush  aft  along  the  main  deck,  found  themselves 
confronted  by  a  body  of  marines,  who  issued  from 
the  gun-room;  others  who  came  along  the  upper 
deck  also  saw  that  their  plot  was  discovered,  and 
that  they  had  not  a  hope  of  success.  The  drum 
then  beat  to  quarters,  and  all  hands  were  sum- 
moned on  deck.  The  first  lieutenant  now  stepping 
forward,  exclaimed,  "What  is  it  you  want,  my  lads? 
if  you  are  treated  with  injustice,  say  so.  If  you 
have  anything  else  to  complain  of,  let  me  know, 
but,  as  you  see,  your  mutinous  intentions  are  dis- 
covered, and  let  me  tell  you  that  those  who  are 
guilty  will  receive  the  punishment  which  they 
merit."  Not  a  man  spoke  in  return  for  some  time. 
At  length  several  coming  aft,  declared  they  knew 
nothing  about  the  intentions  of  the  rest,  when  it 
was  found  that  the  mutineers  consisted  chiefly  of 
the  Irish  rebels  who  had  been  put  on  board  at  Cork, 
and  of  a  few  smugglers  and  jail -birds  who  had 
been  won  over  by  Higson. 

"Some  of  you  will  grace  the  yard-arm  before 
long,"  observed  the  first  lieutenant,  "but  I  intend 
to  give  you  another  trial.  I  have  no  wish  that  any 
man  should  die  for  this  day's  work,  however  richly 
some  of  you  may  deserve  it.  Those  who  prove 
faithful  to  their  duty  will  find  that  they  are  re- 
warded, and  those  who  act  as  traitors  to  their  king 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  123 

and  country  will  discover,  too  late,  that  they  will 
not  go  unpunished.  Now  pipe  below." 

The  mutiny  which  at  first  threatened  such  serious 
consequences,  by  the  determination  of  the  first  lieu- 
tenant was  then  happily  quelled,  and  the  ship  soon 
after  returned  to  Port  Royal.  Here  Captain  Falk- 
ner  was  found  sufficiently  recovered  to  resume  his 
command.  The  men  soon  discovered  that  he  had 
been  informed  of  the  mutiny.  He  told  the  men  so 
in  very  explicit  terms.  Adding — 

"You  have  brought  disgrace  on  yourselves,  men, 
and  on  the  ship  in  a  way  which  makes  me  ashamed 
of  you,  but  I  hope  before  long,  that  we  shall  fall  in 
with  an  enemy,  and  that  then  I  shall  find  you  wipe 
it  out,  by  the  gallantry  of  your  conduct."  The  men 
on  hearing  these  words,  cheered  their  captain,  and 
from  that  day  forth  he  had  no  cause  to  complain  of 
the  general  conduct  of  the  ship's  company.  They 
were  continually  on  the  look-out  for  an  enemy's 
cruiser.  Several  merchant  vessels  were  taken  and 
sent  into  port,  and  a  small  brig-of-war  was  cap- 
tured, without  having  fired  a  shot  in  her  Qwn  de- 
fence. The  midshipmen  were  always  encouraged 
by  their  captain  to  exercise  themselves  by  running 
aloft  over  the  mast-head,  and  sliding  down  by  the 
different  ropes  which  led  on  deck.  Sometimes  the 
game  of  follow  my  leader  was  played;  the  most 


124  Shore  and  Ocean. 

active  lad  leading  the  way.  Now  to  the  mizen- 
mast-head,  next  to  the  main -top -gallant -mast- 
head, and  so  on  to  the  fore -mast,  and  finally, 
perhaps  down  to  the  bow-sprit  end.-  Now  like 
monkeys,  they  were  seen  to  run  out  on  the  yard- 
arms,  and  it  seemed  wonderful  that  they  could,  at 
the  rate  they  went,  escape  falling.  On  one  occa- 
sion, during  a  game,  both  the  midshipmen  and  the 
ship's  boys  were  thus  amusing  themselves.  Several 
of  the  top-men  were  on  the  main-top-mast  yard. 
A  sudden  splash  was  heard.  "A  man  overboard!" 
was  the  cry.  Quick  as  lightning  a  ship's  boy  was 
seen  gliding  down  a  backstay.  As  he  touched  the 
hammock -nettings,  instead  of  jumping  down  _  on 
deck,  he  plunged  overboard. 

"  A  shark  !  a  shark !"  was  heard,  uttered  in  tones 
of  horror  by  several  voices  on  deck.  The  order  was 
given  to  lower  a  boat.  Gratings  and  oars  and  spars 
were  hove  overboard.  A  short  way  from  the  ship, 
a  young  fair  face  was  seen  floating  upwards,  while 
Charles  Denham,  who  it  appeared  had  sprung  over- 
board, was  striking  out  rapidly  towards  him.  The 
attention  of  all  on  board  was  directed  to  the  spot. 
Had  it  not  been  for  fear  of  the  voracious  monster 
of  the  deep,  many  might  have  jumped  overboard 
to  assist,  still  they  shouted  and  kept  throwing  in 
things,  to  distract,  if  possible,  the  attention  of  the 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  125 

shark  from  the  lad  in  the  water.  Denham  knowing 
well  the  enemy  he  had  to  contend  with,  continued 
striking  the  water  with  all  his  might  with  his  feet, 
as  he  swam  forward,  shouting  at  the  same  time. 
But  young  Lord'Fitz  Barry,  for  it  was  he  who  had 
tumbled  overboard,  lay  perfectly  unconscious,  and 
it  seemed  too  probable  would  become  a  prey  to  the 
monster.  Already  its  dark  fin  was  seen  not  far  off, 
but  the  boat  had  now  touched  the  water,  and  an 
eager  crew  was  pulling  towards  the  lads.  Den- 
ham's  hand  was  already  under  the  head  of  the 
young  lord,  whom  he  supported  while  he  struck 
out  with  his  feet  and  other  hand.  A  shark,  how- 
ever ferocious,  will  seldom  attack  a  person  who  is  in 
constant  movement,  and  by  his  shouts  and  splash- 
ing, Denham  thus  contrived  to  keep  the  monster  at 
a  distance.  The  boat  approached.  Those  in  the 
bows  leant  over  to  drag  in  the  young  lord. 

"  Never  mind  me,"  exclaimed  Denham,  as  he 
helped  to  lift  him  into  the  boat. 

"But  we  must  mind  you,"  answered  a  man,  "or 
that  brute  will  have  you  even  now." 

Denham's  hands  were  on  the  gunnel  of  the  boat, 
when  the  black  fin,  at  a  short  distance  off  disap- 
peared under  the  water.  A  strong,  tall  topman  was 
standing  in  the  boat.  He  leaned  over,  and  seizing 
Denham  in  his  arms  lifted  him  up;  but  scarcely  had 


126  Shore  and  Ocean, 

his  feet  got  above  the  surface,  when  the  monster's 
enormous  pair  of  jaws  were  seen  to  rise  close  to  it. 
Young  Denham  was  saved,  but  few  have  run  a 
greater  risk  of  losing  their  lives.  In  the  meantime 
the  young  lord  lay  unconscious  in  the  bow  of  the 
boat. 

"We  must  get  him  on  board  at  once,"  exclaimed 
the  officer  who  had  come  in  her.  "He  is  alive 
though,  and  must  be  put  under  the  doctor's  care." 

The  boat  immediately  returned  on  board.  It  was 
found  that  Lord  Fitz  Barry  had  fallen  upon  his  side 
when  dropping  into  the  water,  and  that  the  whole 
of  that  part  of  his  body  was  for  the  time  paralyzed. 
Still,  in  a  short  time  he  returned  to  consciousness, 
but  some  time  elapsed  before  he  had  recovered. 
His  chief  anxiety  seemed  to  be  to  express  his  grat- 
itude to  the  lad  who  had  saved  him.  Denham  mod- 
estly replied  that  he  had  only  done  his  duty,  though 
he  was  not  insensible  of  the  young  lord's  kind 
feelings. 

When  Lord  Fitz  Barry  was  sufficiently  recovered 
the  captain  invited  him,  as  was  the  custom,  to 
dine  at  his  table,  and  the  subject  of  his  fall  was 
alluded  to. 

"  If  you  can  do  me  a  favour,  sir,"  he  observed, 
"  and  in  any  way  reward  the  boy  who  saved  my 
life,  I  should  indeed  be  grateful.  There  is  some- 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  127 

thing  in  him  which  prevents  me  from  venturing  to 
offer  him  money.  I  am  sure  he  would  prize  pro- 
motion of  some  sort  more  than  anything  else.  He 
seems  to  me  as  he  walks  the  deck  to  be  superior 
to  all  the  other  lads,  and  to  be  more  like  a  gen- 
tleman than  any  of  them." 

"  We  will  keep  an  eye  on  him,  Fitz  Barry,"  an- 
swered the  captain,  with  a  smile.  "  I  have  watched 
him  on  many  occasions;  and  if  I  understand  rightly, 
this  is  not  the  first  time  he  has  rendered  you  a 
service.  What  do  you  say  ?  Shall  we  place  him 
on  the  quarter-deck  ?  What  would  your  mess- 
mates say  to  that  ?  " 

"There  is  not  one  of  them  who  would  not  be 
pleased,  sir,"  answered  the  young  lord.  "  They  all 
think  well  of  him;  and  since  that  boat  affair,  when, 
I  believe,  if  it  had  not  been  for  him,  those  villians 
would  have  hurled  m?  overboard,  they  have  all 
wished  that  he  would  get  some  reward." 

"  He  was  the  lad,  sir,  who  gave  me  the  informa- 
tion of  the  intended  mutiny,  so  that  really,  I  be- 
lieve, he  was  the  means  of  preserving  all  our  lives, 
and  preventing  fearful  disgrace  being  brought  upon 
the  service,"  observed  the  first  lieutenant. 

"  Well,  I  do  not  like  to  make  such  promotions 
in  a  hurry,"  answered  the  captain;  "but  from  what 
I  have  heard  of  the  lad,  if  he  is  found  to  possess  a 


128  Shore  and  Ocean. 

fair  amount  of  education,  I  shall  be  very  glad  to 
offer  him  the  opportunity  of  being  placed  on  the 
quarter-deck." 

"  But  he  looks  to  me  such  a  clever  fellow,"  said 
Lord  Fitz  Barry,  "that  I  am  sure  he  will  soon 
learn  to  read  and  write,  if  he  cannot  now." 

The  captain  talked  the  matter  over  for  some 
time  with  the  first  lieutenant,  and  it  was  arranged 
that  the  young  volunteer  should  forthwith  be 
placed  in  the  midshipman's  berth.  To  Fitz  Bar- 
ry's infinite  satisfaction,  next  morning,  after  divi- 
sions, while  all  the  officers  were  assembled  on  the 
quarter-deck,  Charles  Denham  was  summoned  aft. 

"  Charles  Denham  is,  I  believe,  your  name,"  said 
the  captain.  "  You  have  on  more  than  one  occa- 
sion done  good  service  since  you  joined  this  ship, 
besides  which,  your  general  conduct  is  unexcep- 
tionable. The  other  day,  at  the  risk  of  your  own 
life,  you  saved  that  of  young  Lord  Fitz  Barry. 
Now,  I  believe,  had  it  been  the  youngest  boy  in 
the  ship,  you  would  have  done  the  same;  but  Lord 
Fitz  Barry  is  very  anxious,  as  I  am,  that  you  should 
receive  some  mark  to  show  you  that  your  conduct 
is  appreciated.  He  is  not  able  to  reward  you  him- 
self, I  therefore  ask  you  whether  for  the  future  you 
would  like  to  walk  the  quarter-deck  as  an  officer. 
Through  his  Majesty's  bounty  you  will  have  the 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  129 

means  of  doing  so,  and  I  shall  have  myself  the 
satisfaction  of  aiding  you  to  support  your  new 
rank.  To  no  one  else  need  you  be  indebted,  and 
I  hope  in  a  short  time  that  you  will,  by  obtaining 
promotion,  be  independent  of  any  aid  beyond  what 
you  yourself  can  obtain." 

Then  turning  to  the  midshipmen,  he  asked  them 
whether  they  would  be  glad  to  receive  the  young 
sailor  among  them  as  a  messmate.  Three  cheers 
was  the  answer  given  by  the  warm-hearted  lads. 

"We  are  very  sure  that  he  will  not  only  do  us 
credit,  but  gain  honour  for  our  berth,"  exclaimed 
several  of  them;  and  again  they  cheered  their  new 
messmate  warmly. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  describe  Denham's  feel- 
ings, and  perhaps  few  among  them  knew  how  anx- 
ious he  had  been  to  obtain  the  rank  which  was  now 
bestowed  upon  him.  But  few  days  had  passed  since 
Denham  had  put  on  a  uniform,  and  walked  the  quar- 
ter-deck as  a  midshipman,  and  yet  in  manner  and 
appearance  he  was  fully  equal  to  any  of  his  mess- 
mates. He  carried  on  all  his  duties  with  the  air  of  a 
young  officer,  and  evidently  understood  them  thor- 
oughly. By  his  manners  and  conduct  on  all  occa- 
sions, he  quickly  won  his  way  in  the  esteem  of  his 
messmates,  while  his  rise  did  not  excite  the  envy  of 
those  below  him.  Ned  Davis  did  not  appear  to  wish 
9 


130  Shore  and  Ocean. 

to  leave  the  position  he  himself  occupied.  Indeed, 
he  seemed  rather  anxious  to  be  an  humble  follower 
of  the  young  midshipman  than  to  be  raised  to  an 
equality  with  him. 

Some  months  had  passed  away,  and  several  gal- 
lant actions  had  been  performed  by  the  officers  and 
crew  of  the  Cynthia,  mostly  in  cutting-out  expedi- 
tions, when  Denham  behaved  with  great  gallantry. 
As  he  was  much  stronger,  and  more  active  than 
Fitz  Barry,  he  always  constituted  himself  the  pro- 
tector of  the  young  lord  whenever  it  was  his  duty 
to  take  a  part  in  any  of  these  expeditions. 

On  one  occasion  the  frigate  was  off  one  of  the 
French  islands,  and  in  a  harbour  protected  by  a  fort 
on  either  side,  several  privateers  and  other  armed 
vessels  were  discovered  at  anchor.  As  they  were 
craft  likely  to  do  much  damage  to  English  merchant 
shipping,  Captain  Falkner  resolved,  though  it  was 
an  undertaking  of  considerable  risk,  to  cut  them  out. 
He  stood  off  from  the  land  toward  evening,  so  as  to 
give  the  Frenchmen  the  idea  that  he  had  gone  away 
altogether.  As  the  evening  approached,  however, 
he  once  more  stood  back  for  the  harbour.  They 
hoped  to  avoid  the  observations  of  the  sentries  in 
the  forts. 

Full  directions  were  given  to  officers  in  charge  of 
each  boat.  The  larger  vessels  were  to  be  assailed 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan,  131 

first,  and  two  boats  were  to  board  one  vessel  on 
either  quarter  at  the  same  moment.  Mr.  Evans 
had  directed  Denham  to  attack  the  same  vessel 
that  he  proposed  boarding.  There  were  six  boats, 
so  that  three  .privateers  would  be  attacked  simul- 
taneously. Mr.  Evans  judged,  by  this  means,  that 
the  enemy's  attention  being  distracted,  they  would 
be  prevented  from  coming  to  each  other's  assist- 
ance. A  light  breeze  blew  out  of  the  harbour, 
which  would  enable  them,  as  soon  as  the  cables 
were  cut,  to  carry  the  vessels  off  without  difficulty. 
Not  a  word  was  spoken.  The  muffled  oars  sent 
forth  no  sound  till  the  boats  pulled  up  before  the 
forts.  Denham's  heart  beat  high.  He  knew  that 
he  should  now  have  an  opportunity  of  distinguish- 
ing himself,  especially  under  the  eye  of  the  first 
lieutenant,  who  had  hitherto  always  proved  his 
friend.  Gradually,  through  the  gloom  of  night,  the 
masts  and  spars  of  the  vessels  to  be  attacked  rose 
up  before  them.  Leaving  the  line,  he  followed  the 
boat  of  the  first  lieutenant  towards  a  large  brig 
which  lay  moored  furthest  out  in  the  harbour. 
They  were  on  the  point  of  hooking  on  when  shouts 
arose  from  her  deck.  They  found  that  they  were 
discovered;  but  this  did  not  hinder  them  from  an 
attempt  to  board.  Before  the  Frenchmen  could 
tell  which  part  of  the  vessel  they  were  about  tc 


132  Shore  and  Ocean, 

attack,  they  sprang  up  the  sides  of  the  brig,  and 
threw  themselves  on  board.  Part  of  the  French 
crew,  having  had  no  time  to  arm  themselves,  fled 
before  them  to  the  fore-part  of  the  vessel,  where, 
however,  having  rallied,  they  again  rushed  aft,  and 
a  furious  hand-to-hand  encounter  took  place.  Fitz 
Barry  had  followed  Denham  on  board,  and  the 
young  lord,  pistol  in  hand,  was  advancing  by  the 
side  of  his  messmate.  Led  by  Mr.  Evans,  the  Eng- 
lish crew  dashed  forward  till  they  reached  the  fore- 
castle, where  the  French,  apparently  determined  to 
resist  to  the  last,  fought  bravely.  Once  more  they 
pushed  the  English  hard.  Pistol-shots  were  rapidly 
exchanged,  and  the  clash  of  cutlasses  was  heard, 
echoed  from  the  decks  of  the  other  vessels,  which 
were  now  also  fiercely  attacked.  Some  of  the  French 
crew  who  had  gone  down  below  now  appeared  on 
deck  fully  armed,  and  it  appeared  very  doubtful 
whether  even  English  courage,  and  English  deter- 
mination, would  succeed  in  overcoming  the  enemy. 
The  struggle  continued.  Again  the  enemy,  led  by 
a  huge  Frenchman,  who  appeared  to  be  one  of 
their  officers,  drove  back  the  English  some  feet 
along  the  deck.  He  had  singled  out  Mr.  Evans, 
the  first  lieutenant,  apparently  with  the  intention 
of  cutting  him  down,  being  evidently  himself  a  first- 
rate  swordsman.  Already  the  English  lieutenant's 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  133 

guard  was  thrown  down,  and  the  Frenchman  had 
lifted  his  cutlass  and  was  about  to  bring  it  down  on 
his  head,  when  Denham  sprang  forward  and  dis- 
charged his  pistol  at  the  Frenchman.  The  bullet 
struck  him  on  the  right  arm  and  the  weapon  fell  to 
the  deck.  Mr.  Evans,  recovering  his  sword,  gave 
him  a  thrust,  which  sent  him  backwards  among  his 
men.  The  fall  of  their  leader  discouraged  the 
French,  who  giving  way,  the  English  found  them- 
selves in  possession  of  the  brig.  The  cable,  as  had 
been  agreed  upon,  was  immediately  cut.  -Hands 
were  sent  aloft  to  loose  the  fore-topsail,  and  the 
head  of  the  prize  coming  round,  she  was  steered  out 
towards  the  mouth  of  the  harbour. 

Denham  now  had  time  to  look  around  and  ascer- 
tain what  had  become  of  Lord  Fitz  Barry,  who  was 
nowhere  to  be  seen.  He  made  inquiries  of  the  men 
to  learn  when  they  had  last  seen  him.  No  one 
knew.  They  had  observed  him  on  deck  standing 
close  to  his  brother  midshipman,  but  after  that,  no 
one  could  give  an  account  of  him.  Denham  began 
to  be  greatly  alarmed,  fearing  that  the  young  lord 
had  been  thrown  overboard,  or  that  he  might  in  the 
melee  have  fallen  down  below;  but  at  that  moment 
he  was  unable  to  make  any  further  inquiries:  for, 
as  the  mouth  of  the  harbour  was  approached,  the 
forts  on  either  side  opened  their  fire  on  the  prize. 


134  Shore  and  Ocean. 

Although  the  brig  offered  a  better  mark  than  the 
boats  would  have  done,  still,  as  the  night  continued 
very  dark,  and  no  noise  was  made  on  board,  the 
gunners  in  the  forts  could  not  ascertain  in  which 
direction  to  fire.  The  French  prisoners  were  as 
eager  as  the  English  to  keep  quiet,  because  the  shots 
which  fell  on  board  were  as  likely  to  injure  them 
as  to  hurt  their  captors.  The  same  reason  perhaps 
prevented  them  from  attempting  to  regain  the  ves- 
sel while  the  English  were  engaged  in  steering  her 
out  of  the  harbour.  At  length  she  was  got  clear 
and  stood  for  the  frigate,  which  now  showed  a 
bright  light  for  her  guidance;  the  firing  having 
given  her  notice  that  the  exploit  had  been  at- 
tempted, although  Captain  Falkner,  at  that  time, 
could  not  have  told  whether  it  had  been  successful 
or  not.  Mr.  Evans  now  directed  that  the  lantern 
should  be  lighted,  in  order  that  the  French  pris- 
oners might  be  secured,  and  that  it  might  be  seen 
what  damage  had  been  done  to  the  vessel.  While 
going  round  the  decks  with  a  lantern,  Denham  dis- 
covered between  the  guns  the  form  of  his  young 
messmate.  A  feeling  of  dread  came  over  his  heart. 
Could  he  have  been  killed  and  fallen  down  there  ? 
He  lifted  him  up,  and  anxiously  examined  his 
countenance. 

"  Speak,  speak,  Fitz  Barry,"  he  exclaimed  eagerly. 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  135 

"  Do  tell  me  if  you  are  hurt,  or  where  you  have 
been  wounded." 

"  Yes,  I  am  hurt,  somewhat  badly  I  am  afraid," 
answered  Fitz  Barry,  at  length,  in  a  faint  voice.  "  I 
was  thrown  down  there  by  the  Frenchmen  we  were 
fighting  with,  and  I  was  unable  after  that  to  move. 
I  did  not  like  to  cry  out,  remembering  that  we  were 
passing  the  fort;  and  soon  after  that,  I  suppose,  I 
fainted." 

"  I  thank  Heaven  that  you  are  able  to  speak  thus," 
said  Denham,  "and  we  shall  soon  be  on  board  the 
frigate,  and  the  doctor  will  look  to  your  hurts." 

Mr.  Evans  had  the  satisfaction  of  observing  two 
other  vessels  following  him  out  of  the  harbour, 
while  a  bright  light  which  burst  forth  some  way 
up  it  showed  that  the  other  boats  had  had  time  to 
set  some  merchantmen  on  fire.  War  is  a  fearful 
thing  at  all  times,  but  more  sad  even  is  it  when  it 
compels  the  destruction  of  private  property. 

No  one,  however,  would  have  objected  to  the  de- 
struction of  privateers.  It  is  pretty  well  agreed 
they  partake  more  of  the  character  of  pirates  than 
honourable  combatants;  their  only  object  is  to  rob 
the  merchantmen  of  the  enemy,  so  as  to  become 
themselves  the  possessors  of  their  rich  freight. 
They  do  not  fight  for  honour  or  glory,  and  they 
care  as  little  for  the  good  of  their  country.  It  is 


136  Shore  and  Ocean. 

true,  however,  that  the  privateers,  by  injuring  the 
commerce  of  the  enemy,  frequently  make  that 
enemy  more  anxious  to  come  to  terms,  but  in  most 
cases  both  parties  are  engaged  in  the  same  infa- 
mous system;  both  equally  suffer,  and  both  increase 
the  horrors  and  sufferings  of  warfare. 

When  morning  dawned,  the  prizes  were  found 
collected  round  the  frigate.  Denham's  first  care 
was  to  get  the  wounded  young  midshipman  con- 
veyed on  board,  that  the  doctor  might  immediately 
look  at  his  hurts.  He  did  not  attempt  to  conceal 
his  sorrow  and  anxiety.  He  seemed  to  feel  that  it 
was  from  his  carelessness  by  some  means  or  other 
the  poor  lad  had  been  injured.  Mr.  Evans  had  a 
very  different  account  to  give  of  him,  however,  and 
at  once  generously  informed  Captain  Falkner  that 
it  was  to  his  nerve  and  courage  that  he  himself 
owed  his  life. 

The  Frenchmen  were  removed  on  board  the  frig- 
ate, and  an  English  prize  crew  being  placed  on 
board  each  of  the  prizes,  they  and  their  captor 
steered  a  course  for  Jamaica.  Captain  Falkner 
offered  to  place  Denham  in  command  of  one  of  the 
prizes,  but  his  anxiety  for  young  Lord  Fitz  Barry 
made  him  beg  that  he  might  be  allowed  to  remain 
on  board  the  frigate. 

A  considerable  time  had  passed  since  the  arrival 


The  Heir  of  Kit 'finnan.  137 

of  the  Cynthia  on  the  station.  A  season  dreaded  by 
all  navigators  of  those  seas  was  now  approaching — 
the  hurricane  season.  Fearful  is  the  devastation 
often  produced  on  shore  and  on  the  ocean  at  that 
period.  Not  many  years  before  several  line  of  bat- 
tle ships  and  other  vessels  had  either  foundered  with 
their  crews,  or  had  been  driven  on  shore,  where  the 
larger  number  of  the  men  belonging  to  them  had 
perished.  Captain  Falkner  was  anxious,  therefore, 
to  get  back  without  delay  to  Port  Royal  harbour. 
They  were,  however,  within  a  couple  of  days'  sail  of 
Jamaica  when  the  frigate  was  becalmed;  during  the 
middle  of  the  day,  although  a  thick  mist  overspread 
the  sky  and  hid  the  rays  of  the  sun,  the  heat  was 
excessive.  Below  the  ship  was  like  an  oven,  on 
deck  not  a  breath  of  air  was  to  be  obtained.  The 
men  in  their  white  shirts  and  trousers,  moved  lan- 
guidly about,  literally  gasping  for  breath.  The  sails 
hung  uselessly  down  against  the  masts,  and  the  frig- 
ate's head  went  slowly  round  and  round,  now  point- 
ing in  one  direction  and  now  in  another,  though  it 
was  difficult  to  say  by  what  power  she  was  moved. 
The  heat  affected  young  Barry  greatly.  Denham 
sat  by  his  side  whenever  he  could  leave  his  duty  on 
deck,  anxiously  watching  his  friend.  Ned  Davis 
also  came  where  the  wounded  midshipman  lay  and 
begged  that  he  might  be  allowed  to  take  Denham's 


138  Shore  and  Ocean. 

place  by  his  side.  It  was  curious  to  observe  how 
Denham  had  won  the  lad's  affection  and  admiration. 
There  seemed  to  have  been  no  previous  tie  between 
them;  they  had  met,  it  was  understood,  for  the  first 
time  as  shipmates  on  board  the  merchantman  from 
which  they  had  volunteered,  and  it  was  possible 
neither  of  them  knew  much  about  each  other's  pre- 
vious history.  No  nurse  could  have  administered 
the  medicine  prescribed  by  the  doctor  with  more 
care  and  regularity  than  did  Denham  and  his  volun- 
teer assistant. 

"  I  hope  I  shall  not  die,"  said  Fitz  Barry,  taking 
his  hand,  "  I  want  very  much  again  to  see  my  kind 
father,  and  my  dear  little  sister  Nora,  whom  I  have 
told  you  about,  and  my  cousin  Sophy;  and  do  you 
know,  I  think  I  shall  see  them  before  long.  The  last 
letter  I  got  from  home,  my  father  told  me  that  he 
expected  to  obtain  an  appointment  as  governor  of 
one  of  the  West  India  islands.  It  is  not  a  thing  he 
would  have  accepted  under  ordinary  circumstances, 
but  the  truth  is,  I  suspect  that  it  has  been  very  ex- 
pensive living  in  Ireland  for  the  last  few  years,  and 
he  thinks  it  will  be  wise  to  economize  a  little.  I  do 
not  know  much  about  these  things;  he  has  supplied 
me  liberally  with  money,  and  that  is  all  I  have  to 
think  about.  I  believe  Captain  Falkner  expects  to 
see  him  out  here,  for  he  spoke  of  him  the  other  day, 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  139 

and  you  know,  I  do  not  mind  telling  you,  that  I  be- 
lieve our  skipper  is  going  to  marry  Sophy  one  of 
these  days.  I  am  sure  you  would  like  her  and  my 
sister  if  you  ever  were  to  see  them.  I  do  not  know 
which  you  would  like  best.  Nora  is  a  very  sweet 
little  girl,  or  at  least,  by  the  by,  she  must  have 
grown  since  I  left  home  a  good  deal.  She  is  older 
than  I  am  rather,  and  so  fair  and  gentle,  but  she  has 
not  the  spirit  of  Sophy,  or  her  cleverness;  Sophy  is 
a  wonderfully  clever  girl,  she  draws  so  well.  She 
used  to  make  such  beautiful  portraits  of  people. 
However,  I  must  not  praise  her  too  much,  or  you 
may  possibly  be  disappointed." 

Denham  told  Fitz  Barry  that  he  should  very  much 
like  to  be  introduced  to  his  relations;  "but  you 
know,"  he  observed,  "I  am  afraid  they  will  think 
very  little  of  me  when  they  hear  that  I  was  a  boy 
before  the  mast.  I  tell  you,  Barry,  we  are  mess- 
mates, and  therefore  it  is  right  that  we  should  be 
equal;  but  from  what  I  have  learned  that  will  not 
do  on  shore;  people  think  there  a  good  deal  about 
the  difference  of  rank,  and  if  I  was  to  make  my  ap- 
pearance among  some  of  those  great  people,  they 
might  treat  me  in  a  way  that  I  should  not  at  all  like. 
I  have  become  very  proud,  I  am  afraid,  since  I  have 
been  placed  on  the  quarter-deck,  not  for  myself, 
perhaps,  so  much,  but  for  the  honour  of  the  rank  I 


140  Shore  and  Ocean. 

bear,  for  the  cloth,  even  though  I  am  as  yet  but  a 
midshipman. 

Fitz  Barry  smiled  faintly,  and  answered  languidly, 
"  O,  no  fear  of  that;  I  am  sure  my  father  and  Sophy 
are  not  a  bit  proud;  and  as  to  Nora,  I  don't  think 
she  has  a  particle  of  that  sort  of  thing  in  her;  so 
when  they  come,  you  must  promise  to  let  me  make 
you  known  to  them." 

Denham  did  not  wish  to  appear  to  refuse  his 
friend,  at  the  same  time  he  resolved  not  in  any  way 
to  push  himself  forward.  The  conversation  appeared 
to  be  doing  Fitz  Barry  good.  Though  severely  in- 
jured by  the  thrust  of  a  pike  in  his  side,  and  a  blow 
on  his  head,  which  had  knocked  him  down,  the  doc- 
tor assured  Captain  Falkner  that  he  did  not  consider 
the  boy's  life  in  any  peril. 

Captain  Falkner  and  Mr.  Evans  were  holding  a 
consultation  on  the  deck.  Directly  afterwards  the 
latter  shouted,  "  All  hands  on  deck,  and  shorten 
sail." 

The  men  came  rapidly  tumbling  up  from  below, 
some  looking  round  astonished  at  hearing  the  or- 
der, seeing  that  the  dog-vane  was  still  hanging  up 
and  down  the  rigging.  They  sprang  immediately 
aloft  and  the  sails  were  rapidly  furled. 

"  Starboard  the  helm,"  shouted  the  lieutenant, 
gazing  round  the  horizon  as  he  did  so.  "Closely 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  141 

reef  the  fore-topsail,"  he  added  ;  "  man  the  fore-top- 
sail braces." 

The  fore-topsail  was  the  only  sail  now  set.  At 
that  instant  a  dark  line  was  seen  sweeping  rapidly 
over  the  water.  As  it  approached  it  seemed  to  rise 
as  it  were  above  the  surface  and  break  into  feath- 
ery-topped seas.  On  it  came.  A  fierce  blast  struck 
the  ship  on  the  starboard  side,  and  she  heeled  over 
till  the  guns  on  the  other  side  dipped  in  the  water. 
Quickly  recovering  herself,  however,  the  fore-top- 
sail being  braced  sharp  up,  her  head  "paid  off"  be- 
fore the  wind.  Once  more  the  topsail  was  squared, 
and  away  she  flew  before  the  wind.  Wonderful  was 
the  change.  A  few  minutes  before  the  sea  appeared 
as  smooth  as  polished  glass  ^  now  it  was  one  mass 
of  broken  waves,  leaping  and  dancing  madly  around. 
On  flew  the  frigate.  The  captain  and  master  went 
below  to  examine  the  chart,  and  to  see  the  di- 
rection in  which  she  was  driving.  It  might  have 
availed  them  little,  however,  for  it  seemed  impos- 
sible to  steer  her  during  the  fierce  gale  which  blew 
in  any  other  direction  than  directly  before  it.  On 
she  went,  the  wind  rapidly  increasing  ;  the  seas  rose 
higher  and  higher,  and  in  a  short  time  a  fierce  hur- 
ricane was  raging.  The  stern-ports  were  secured, 
the  hatches  were  battened  down,  and  every  prepar- 
ation made  to  prepare  her  for  the  worst.  Probably 


142  Shore  and  Ocean. 

in  a  short  time  she  would  not  be  able  to  run  before 
the  gale. 

"We  have  a  clear  sea  before  us,"  observed  the 
captain  to  the  master,  as  they  leaned  over  the  chart 
to  which  the  former  pointed;  "that,  unless  the  wind 
shifts,  gives  us  a  better  hope  of  escaping.  The  ship, 
too,  considering  the  number  of  years  she  has  been 
at  sea,  is  in  a  good  state,  and  I  do  not  think  we 
need  fear  her  springing  a  leak." 

The  master  seemed  to  agree  with  Captain  Falkner 
and  once  more  they  together  returned  on  deck. 

Denham,  all  the  time  he  had  been  in  the  West 
Indies,  had  never  encountered  such  a  hurricane. 
He  gazed  with  admiration,  allied  with  awe,  on  the 
vast  seas  which  now  rose  up  on  every  side  around 
them.  The  stout  frigate  was  tossed  about  as  if  she 
had  been  a  cockle-shell,  yet  on  she  flew  unharmed, 
now  sinking  into  the  deep  trough  of  the  sea,  now 
rising  to  the  summit  of  a  mountainous  billow. 

"  I  wish  Fitz  Barry  had  been  able  to  come  on 
deck;  he  was  saying  the  other  day  how  he  should 
like  to  witness  a  real  hurricane,"  he  observed  to 
one  of  his  messmates, 

"Oh,  Fitz  Barry  fancies  a  great  many  things;  but 
I  wonder  whether  he  would  like  the  reality  of  this," 
was  the  answer. 

"  He  has  as  brave  and  true  a  heart  as  ever  lived," 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  143 

answered  Denham  warmly.  "  Depend  upon  it,  there 
is  more  in  him  than  some  of  you  suppose." 

"  Considering  that  he  is  a  lord  he  is  all  very 
well,"  answered  Denham's  messmate.  "In  my  opin- 
ion he  has  been  over-petted  and  spoiled." 

The  frigate  flew  onward  on  her  course.  Provided 
none  of  her  rigging  gave  way,  and  no  leak  was 
sprung,  it  seemed  probable  she  would  escape  with- 
out any  misfortune.  But  everything  at  the  present 
moment  appeared  to  depend  upon  the  rigging  and 
the  sea-worthiness  of  her  hull.  Still  the  captain 
and  his  officers  often  looked  anxiously  around. 
The  fury  of  the  hurricane  was  evidently  increas- 
ing; it  had  not  yet  got  to  its  height.  The  fore- 
topsail  had  hitherto  stood,  but  as  it  tugged  and 
tugged  away  it  seemed  as  if  it  would  fly  from  the 
bolt-ropes.  The  first  lieutenant  anxiously  watched 
it.  Should  it  be  carried  away  it  was  scarcely  pos- 
sible that  another  could  be  set,  and  though  the 
ship  might  still  scud  under  bare  poles,  there  was  a 
great  risk  of  her  broaching  to,  and  if  so,  the  seas 
breaking  over  her  sides  might  disable  her  com- 
pletely. Suddenly  there  was  a  loud  clap  like  that 
of  thunder,  and  what  looked  for  the  moment  like  a 
white  cloud  was  seen  carried  away  before  the  blast. 
It  was  the  fore-topsail  which  had  been  blown  from 
the  bolt-ropes.  The  few  shreds  that  remained  were 


144  Shore  and  Ocean. 

quickly  wrapped  round  and  round  the  yard,  whence 
it  would  be  no  easy  matter  to  cut  them.  Still  the 
ship  went  on  under  bare  poles.  At  length  night 
approached,  and  as  darkness  came  on  the  danger 
was  greatly  increased.  Even  flying  as  she  was  be- 
fore the  wind  those  on  board  could  scarcely  keep 
their  feet,  and  more  than  one  remarked,  "  What 
must  it  be  for  poor  people  on  shore?  Why,  half 
the  plantations  in  Jamaica  will  be  carried  away." 

"Worse  still  for  those  at  sea  who  are  on  a  lee 
shore,"  observed  Mr.  Evans.  "Let  us  pray  that  we 
may  not  find  ourselves  in  that  position." 

The  men  generally  behaved  very  well  during  the 
awful  scene,  but  there  were  some  skulkers  who 
went  below  to  hide  themselves  away.  Among 
them  was  John  Higson.  He  had  been  bold  and 
boasting  in  fine  weather,  but  he  now  showed  him- 
self to  be  the  coward  he  really  was.  The  second 
lieutenant,  going  his  rounds  on  the  lower  deck, 
found  him  stowed  away,  hoping  to  be  out  of  sight, 
with  two  or  three  others  of  the  same  character. 
He  instantly  ordered  them  up  on  deck  to  do  their 
duty,  though  they  very  unwillingly  obeyed. 

"  Do  you  think  that  the  hurricane  will  soon  be 
over,  master  ? "  asked  Captain  Falkner. 

"Not  for  some  hours,  I  fear,"  answered  the  mas- 
ter. "  I  have  known  such  a  one  as  this  last  twen- 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  145 

ty-four  hours  at  least,  and  wonderful  was  the  mis- 
chief it  did  in  that  time.  However,  as  long  as  we 
can  keep  her  from  broaching  to,  we  shall  do  well 
enough." 

While  he  was  speaking  there  was  a  fearful  crash. 
Loud  shrieks  were  heard.  The  main-yard  had  been 
carried  from  the  slings,  as  it  fell  crushing  several 
persons  who  stood  below  it. 

Several  of  their  messmates  rushed  to  the  spot 
to  aid  them.  Four  or  five  were  killed,  and  others 
were  sadly  mangled.  Still  the  frigate  drove  on. 

"A  sail  ahead,"  shouted  the  look-out. 

Glasses  were  turned  in  that  direction,  and  a  large 
ship  was  seen  now  sinking  in  the  trough  of  the 
sea,  now  rising  to  the  summit  of  the  waves. 

"She  is  a  line-of-battle  ship,  I  think,"  said  Mr. 
Evans  to  Captain  Falkner,  "and  from  the  way  she 
is  rolling  I  fear  she  is  in  a  bad  condition." 

The  blast  which  had  carried  away  the  frigate's 
main-yard  appeared  to  be  the  last  effort  of  the  hur- 
ricane. The  wind  began  to  subside  almost  as  rap- 
idly as  it  commenced.  In  a  short  time,  although 
the  sea  continued  raging  fiercely,  the  wind  had 
dropped  to  a  moderate  gale.  The  wreck  of  the 
yard  having  been  cleared  away,  sail  was  once  more 
made  on  the  frigate,  and  she  steered  towards  the 

line-of-battle  ship. 

10 


146  Shore  and  Ocean. 

As  she  approached  every  indication  was  observed 
that  she  had  suffered  fearfully  in  the  hurricane. 
Her  ensign  was  hoisted  reversed.  The  bowsprit 
and  fore  topmast  were  gone,  as  was  the  mizen 
topmast,  while  it  seemed  as  if  in  an  instant  the  main 
topmast  would  follow  the  other  masts.  All  the 
quarter  boats  seemed  to  have  been  carried  away, 
and  as  the  frigate  drew  nearer  a  signal  was  hoisted, 
which,  on  being  interpreted,  was — 

"Come  as  close  as  you  can;  we  have  passengers  on 
board,  and  are  expecting  every  instant  to  go  down." 

The  roughness  of  the  sea  rendered  the  passage 
of  boats  between  the  two  ships  very  dangerous. 
Still  Captain  Falkner  determined  to  risk  them  with 
the  ordinary  boats'  crews;  though,  in  such  cases, 
volunteers  are  often  called  for.  He  immediately 
answered  the  signal, — "We  will  send  boats;  be  pre- 
pared to  lower  your  passengers  into  them." 

The  first  and  second  lieutenants  went  each  to 
take  command  of  a  boat,  and  Denham  was  directed 
to  take  charge  of  one  in  the  place  of  one  of  the 
other  officers  who  was  ill.  While  the  boats  were 
passing  between  the  two  ships,  two  men  were  em- 
ployed in  each  to  bale  out  the  water  which  broke 
into  them. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

TT7"E   must   now  take   a  glance   at   the   events 
which  had  occurred  on  the  shores  of  Kil- 
finnan  Bay  since  young  Dermot  O'Neil  left  his  moth- 
er's cottage. 

The  Earl  had  continued  his  course  of  hospitality, 
or  extravagance,  as  it  should  more  correctly  have 
been  denominated,  such  as  was  too  much  the  custom 
among  most  Irish  gentlemen  of  those  days,  declar- 
ing that  although  his  affairs  at  that  time  were  in 
a  rather  embarrassed  condition,  he  could  not  afford 
to  commence  a  system  of  economy.  His  table,  as 
usual,  was  amply  spread,  and  the  members  of  the 
neighbouring  hunt  pretty  frequently  in  the  season 
collected  at  the  castle,  which  during  the  summer 
months  was  seldom  otherwise  than  full  of  guests. 
Lady  Nora,  who  was  now  growing  into  a  beautiful 
young  woman,  saw  with  regret  the  lavish  expen- 
diture in  which  her  father  indulged,  knowing  very 
well  from  what  she  had  heard,  that  it  was  more 
than  his  income  could  afford;  still  he  always  con- 


148  Shore  and  Ocean. 

trived  to  supply  Barry  amply  with  money,  and  No- 
ra was  allowed  every  luxury  she  could  wish  for. 
Her  tastes,  however,  were  very  simple,  though  in 
her  visits  with  her  father  to  the  gay  Irish  capital, 
she  was  compelled,  much  against  her  will,  to  mix 
in  its  frivolous  society,  when  at  the  castle  she  was 
content  to  take  her  usual  rides  about  the  country, 
often  with  no  other  attendant  than  a  young  lad  on 
a  rough  pony  to  hold  her  horse,  should  she  wish  to 
alight. 

Lady  Sophy  still  continued  to  be  for  the  greater 
part  of  the  year  her  constant  companion.  Occa- 
sionally, they  looked  in  upon  Mr.  Jamieson,  the 
minister,  and  his  blind  niece,  Miss  O'Reilly.  They 
did  not  forget  either  the  old  fish-wife,  the  Widow 
O'Neil.  Whenever  they  saw  her,  they  did  not  fail 
to  inquire  about  her  son;  but  she  shook  her  head, 
with  a  melancholy  look. 

"  He  will  come  back  some  day,  I  know  he  will. 
He  promised  me  he  would;  but  he  does  not  write 
to  me — he  sends  me  no  messages.  Perhaps,  as  he 
knows  I  cannot  read,  he  thinks  it  will  be  no  use 
writing;  but,  oh,  he  loves  me  dearly;  and  it  is  for 
no  want  of  love  he  does  not  write.  He  will  come 
back  to  me,  dear  young  ladies,  some  day;  and,  oh, 
with  what  pride  I  shall  have  to  bring  him  to  you. 
He  will  be  a  fine,  strong  lad  by  that  time.  Maybe 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  149 

you   would   not   know   him.     He   must   be   altered 
greatly  since  the  day  you  took  his  picture,  when  he . 
was  a  young  fisher-boy." 

Mr.  Jamieson,  however,  was  more  surprised  than 
any  one  else  at  not  hearing  from  Dermot.  He  had 
been  fully  prepared  for  Dermot's  going  away,  but 
he  did  not  for  one  moment  suppose,  from  what  he 
knew  of  the  lad,  that  he  would  not  have  kept  up  a 
correspondence  with  his  friends  at  home.  Still,  he 
had  received  no  letter,  and  had  seen  none  from  him 
to  any  one  else,  since  the  epistle  brought  by  mad 
Kathleen  a  few  days  after  his  departure.  Had  it 
not  been  for  this,  he  would  have  supposed  he  had 
met  with  some  foul  treatment  from  the  rebels,  or 
that  some  fearful  accident  had  befallen  him.  Still, 
whenever  Miss  O'Reilly  spoke  to  the  widow,  the 
old  woman  expressed  her  firm  belief  that  Dermot 
was  living,  and  would  most  assuredly  come  back  to 
her.  That  thought  seemed  to  keep  her  alive,  and 
to  give,  her  strength  of  mind  and  body  to  go  through 
her  accustomed  duties.  Sometimes,  however,  it  ap- 
peared to  the  blind  lady,  when  she  listened  to  the 
old  woman,  that  her  mind  was  not  altogether  right, 
for  she  spoke  of  strange  things  she  had  seen  and 
done  in  her  youth,  the  meaning  of  which  Miss 
O'Reilly  could  not  comprehend.  She  could  not, 
however,  listen  to  her  speaking  of  Dermot  without 


150  Shore  and  Ocean. 

feeling  touched  by  the  deep  love  which  formed,  as 
it  were,  a  part  of  her  being,  for  her  young  son. 
There  was  one  person  however,  who  could  have 
given  more  information  about  the  matter  than 
anybody  else,  if  he  had  chosen — that  was  Father 
O'Rourke.  For  purposes  best  known  to  himself,  he 
had  gained  an  undue  influence  over  the  authorities 
at  the  post-office,  and  thus  he  had  the  means  of 
examining  any  letters  which  he  thought  it  worth  his 
while  to  look  into.  Though  such  a  thing  might  be 
impossible  at  the  present  day,  at  that  time  it  was 
easy  of  execution. 

On  one  occasion  when  he  was  glancing  over  the 
letters,  he  found  one,  the  superscription  of  which  he 
examined  carefully.  Taking  it  aside,  he  broke  it 
open. 

"  O,  and  so  you  recommend  your  mother  to  go 
and  listen  to  the  counsels  of  the  heretic  minister. 
Is  that  your  idea,  Master  Dermot  ? "  he  exclaimed 
to  himself.  "We  shall  see  how  that  is  carried  out. 
And  you  declare  your  love  to  her;  and  you  vow 
that,  Heaven  protecting  you,  you  will  return,  you 
trust,  with  wealth  in  your  pockets,  and  that  you 
will  place  her  above  want;  and  you  hope  that  she 
has  accepted  the  faith  which  you  yourself  now  pro- 
fess." The  priest  literally  ground  his  teeth  with 
anger.  "You  warn  her  to  beware  of  one,  your 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  151 

right  and  lawful  spiritual  adviser,  do  you  ?  She 
shall,  at  all  events,  remain  faithful  to  the  true 
Church.  I  will  take  care  she  does  not  set  eyes 
upon  that  heretic,  Mr.  Jamieson.  Well !  well !  you 
think  yourself  clever  at  forming  a  plot;  but  I  will 
soon  show  you  that  I  can  counteract  it.  You  tell 
her  that  you  will  write  to  Mr.  Jamieson,  do  you  ? 
I  will  take  care  he  does  not  get  a  letter  either.  Is 
my  authority  thus  to  be  set  at  defiance  by  a — well, 
no  matter  what  you  are.  I  know  more  of  your  af- 
fairs than  you  do,  or  than  your  poor,  ignorant,  half- 
witted mother  does  herself;  though  she  is  cunning 
enough  to  hide  away  those  documents  which  would, 
could  I  find  them,  place  you  and  her,  and  some 
other  persons,  too,  entirely  in  my  power.  I'll  find 
them  still,  however,  some  day;  but  that  English 
minister,  by  teaching  you  to  read,  has  made  the 
management  of  the  business  far  more  difficult  than 
it  would  have  been.  However,  I'll  not  be  baulked. 
We  see  what  folly  it  is  to  let  any  but  the  priests 
and  the  wealthy  classes  to  be  taught  to  read. 
They  would  be  managed  ten  times  more  easily 
than  they  will  be  in  a  short  time,  if  this  sort  of 
thing  goes  on.  Ah  !  I  was  thinking  of  that,  lad. 
You  may  be  clever,  Master  Dermot,  but  I  will 
prove  to  you  that  there  is  one  here  cleverer  than 
yourself.  Did  I  know  where  to  write  you,  I  would 


152  Shore  and  Ocean. 

soon  prove  that;  but,  ere  long,  I  doubt  not  that  an- 
other of  your  letters  will  come  under  my  inspec- 
tion, and  then  I  will  quickly  settle  the  matter." 

Such  were  the  thoughts — for  they  were  not  words 
—which  passed  through  the  mind  of  the  Romish 
priest.  Poor  Dermot !  little  did  he  think  what  was 
to  be  the  fate  of  the  loving  letter  he  had  written  to 
his  mother,  the  first  he  had  had  the  opportunity  of 
inditing  after  he  had  left  the  shores  of  England. 

Days,  and  weeks,  and  months  passed  on  and  the 
widow  had  heard  nothing  of  her  son.  The  priest, 
however,  after  watching  month  after  month,  at 
length  found  a  letter,  which  seemed  to  give  him 
infinite  satisfaction.  Its  contents  need  not  be  re- 
vealed; but  Father  O'Rourke  had  at  length  found 
the  means,  so  it  appeared  from  his  ejaculations,  by 
which  he  could  communicate  with  Dermot. 

The  day  arrived  when  the  Earl  and  his  family 
were  to  quit  Kilfinnan  Castle.  Their  neighbours 
and  friends,  and  the  surrounding  peasantry,  turned 
out  to  bid  them  farewell. 

Numberless  were  the  expressions  of  affection  and 
regard  given  utterance  to,  as  persons  of  all  ranks 
came  forward  to  pay  their  adieux  to  the  Earl,  but 
more  especially  to  Lady  Nora,  and  her  cousin,  Lady 
Sophy.  Lady  Nora  shed  many  tears.  She  was 
bidding  farewell  to  the  spot  she  loved,  where  the 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  153 

gentle  mother  whom  she  could  just  recollect  had 
breathed  her  last,  and  round  which  were  centred 
all  the  pleasant  recollections  of  her  youth.  She 
was  going  to  a  strange  land,  to  a  country  where  she 
had  heard  of  pestilence  stalking  forth  in  the  noon- 
day, and  her  heart  sank  within  her,  to  think  of  the 
dangers  to  which  her  father  might  be  exposed. 
Yet  one  thing  consoled  her — she  hoped  there  to 
meet  her  brother,  who  was  still,  she  knew,  on  the 
station,  though  a  report  had  come  that  the  ship 
was  about  to  leave  it. 

Among  the  guests  were  Mr.  Jamieson  and  his 
blind  niece.  The  Earl  shook  them  warmly  by  the 
hand.  "If  anything  happens  to  me,  Jamieson,  re- 
member I  charge  you  to  look  after  my  young  boy. 
He  is  a  good  and  a  brave  youth,  but  he  requires  a 
friend;  and  Nora,  Miss  O'Reilly,  I  would  rather  you 
had  charge  of  her  than  anybody  on  earth,  and  yet 
I  am  afraid  she  is  growing  too  old  to  be  under  the 
guidance  of  any  one;  I  suspect,  too,  she  could  only 
be  led  by  the  hand  of  love.  She  is  a  dear,  sweet 
girl,  and  I  often  think  if  I  am  taken  away,  what  is 
to  become  of  her  in  this  cruel  world.  Jamieson,  I 
need  not  conceal  from  you  that  I  believe  my  affairs 
are  cruelly  disarranged.  It  is  hard  work,  you  know, 
to  get  in  the  rents,  and  of  late  years,  my  steward 
has  told  me,  and  I  believe  him,  that  it  has  been 


154  Shore  and  Ocean. 

harder  than  ever.  I  do  not  like  to  press  the  ten- 
ants; I  never  yet  had  a  distress  executed,  but  with- 
out it  I  am  afraid  there  are  some  of  them  who  will 
never  be  ready  to  pay." 

"Trust  to  our  merciful  Father,  my  dear  lord," 
answered  Mr.  Jamieson.  "  Do  your  duty  and  try 
to  serve  Him.  There  is  no  use  denying  it,  you  are 
not  free  from  blame  for  this  state  of  things,  and  I 
am  very  certain,  that  may  be  said  of  the  greater 
number  of  landlords  of  this  country,  so  the  only 
advice  I  can  give  is  to  retrench  for  the  future,  and 
when  you  come  back,  to  set  manfully  to  work  to 
get  your  affairs  in  order." 

"Thank  you,  Jamieson,  I  think  your  advice  is 
excellent,"  said  the  good-natured  Earl;  "farewell, 
I  will  try  and  follow  it  out." 

Numbers  of  gentlemen,  and  farmers,  and  peas- 
antry, accompanied  the  carnages  of  the  Earl  and 
his  party  on  horseback,  as  they  took  their  way 
towards  Cork,  whence  the  line-of-battle  ship  which 
was  to  take  them  on  board  was  to  sail. 


CHAPTER  X. 

T  T  TE  must  now  return  to  the  West  Indies.  At 
length  the  frigate's  boat  reached  the  line- 
of-battle  ship.  Numbers  of  persons  were  looking 
through  the  ports.  Denham's  boat  was  one  of  the 
first  on  the  starboard  side. 

"We  must  lower  the  ladies  first,"  said  a  voice 
from  the  entrance  port.  "  Stand  ready  to  receive 
them,  there  is  no  time  to  be  lost." 

"  All  right,"  answered  Denham,  looking  up. 

At  the  same  moment  a  chair  was  lowered  from 
the  entrance  port.  In  an  instant,  the  occupant,  a 
young  lady,  was  released  and  placed  in  the  boat. 
Again  the  chair  ascended,  and  another  was  lowered 
in  the  same  way.  Denham,  giving  one  glance  at 
her  countenance,  saw  that  she  was  fair  and  young, 
and  having  placed  her  in  security,  he  had  to  attend 
to  those  who  followed.  Three  others  were  imme- 
diately lowered  together. 

"Now,  my  lord,"  said  the  voice  of  an  officer, 
"you  must  go  into  the  boat." 


156  Shore  and  Ocean. 

"No,  no,  not  till  all  the  females  are  out  of  the 
ship,"  was  the  answer. 

"  They  are  being  placed  in  the  other  boats  ;  there 
is  no  time  to  be  lost ;  let  me  entreat  you  to  de- 
scend," said  the  officer. 

"  Well,  if  I  must  go,  I  will  obey  you,"  answered 
the  nobleman  who  had  been  addressed,  "  but  I  trust 
all  on  board  here  will  escape."  As  he  spoke  he  was 
lowered  down  into  the  boat. 

"Come,  some  of  you  youngsters,  follow  him," 
said  a  voice ;  "  there  will  be  but  little  time  for  the 
boats  to  make  many  trips  between  the  ships ;  come, 
I  say,  obey  orders."  At  that  moment  five  or  six 
young  midshipmen  came  tumbling  into  the  boat, 
which  now  being  more  than  sufficiently  laden, 
pulled  back  to  the  frigate. 

"  I  am  very  glad  you  are  here,  Lord  Kilfinnan," 
said  one  of  them,  "  and  I  hope  Lady  Nora  has  not 
been  very  much  frightened.  It  has  been  terrible 
work  though,  and  I  am  afraid  the  old  bark  will  not 
swim  much  longer." 

"  Give  way,  my  lads,  give  way,"  shouted  Denham 
to  his  crew;  "we  must  be  back  before  the  ship  sinks, 
or  I  am  afraid  many  a  fine  fellow  will  lose  his  life." 

The  men  rowed  as  hard  as  they  could,  and  in  a 
short  time  they  again  reached  the  frigate.  No  time 
was  lost  in  handing  up  those  on  board. 


FOUNDERING  OK  THE  VESSEL 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  157 

"  Whom  have  we  here  ?  "  asked  Captain  Falkner. 

"Lord  Kilfinnan,  and  his  daughter,  and  niece," 
answered  Denham,  "and  several  other  ladies  and 
midshipmen.  But  we  must  be  back  to  the  ship,  for 
they  expect  every  moment  that  she  will  go  down." 

"Mr.  Evans,"  'said  Captain  Falkner,  "we  must 
get  out  the  launch  and  pinnace ;  the  sea  is  calm 
enough  now  to  allow  us  to  do  so." 

While  the  rest  of  the  boats  already  in  the  water, 
having  put  those  they  carried  on  board  the  frigate, 
pulled  back  to  the  line-of-battle  ship,  the  larger 
boats  were  cleared  and  hoisted  out,  though  not 
without  the  risk  of  being  stove  alongside.  The 
smaller  boats  had  already  made  a  couple  of  trips 
before  they  were  ready  to  shove  off  for  the  ship. 
At  length  away  they  pulled,  but  as  they  reached  the 
side  of  the  ship  the  cry  arose,  "  She  is  sinking — she 
is  sinking." 

Numbers  of  the  brave  fellows  who  had  hitherto 
preserved  their  discipline  now  threw  themselves 
headlong  into  the  boats.  The  marines  still  re- 
mained drawn  up  on  deck,  where  they  had  been 
posted  to  preserve  order.  Already  all  the  boats 
were  full  almost  to  sinking,  and  with  their  living 
freight  they  proceeded  slowly  back  to  the  frigate; 
she,  meantime,  had  been  drawing  nearer  and  near- 
er the  ship.  Still  the  vast  fabric  floated  above  the 


158  Shore  and  Ocean. 

waves;  many  yet  remained  on  board.  The  gallant 
marines  stood  as  if  on  parade;  the  officers  who  had 
refused  to  quit  the  ship  clustered  on  the  quarter- 
deck. Who  could  have  believed  that  all  knew  that 
in  not  many  moments  the  planks  on  which  they 
stood  would  be  engulfed  by  the  waves,  yet  so  it 
was;  British  discipline  triumphed  above  the  fear  of 
death. 

With  frantic  haste  the  men  in  the  boats  sprang 
up  the  side  of  the  frigate,  in  order  that  they  might 
speedily  return  to  the  ship.  Already  they  were 
half  way  between  the  two  vessels  when  the  line-of- 
battle  ship  lifted  high  her  bows  above  the  water, 
then  down  she  plunged,  still  with  many  human  be- 
ings standing  on  her  decks,  numbers,  alas !  sinking 
never  to  rise  again.  The  boats  dashed  forward  into 
the  midst  of  the  vortex  caused  by  her  sudden  de- 
scent. It  seemed  for  a  moment  that  they  also 
would  be  drawn  down  by  it.  On  every  side  were 
human  beings,  some  already  dead  it  seemed,  others 
crying  out  for  assistance,  while  some,  refusing  to 
express  their  fears,  were  striking  out  boldly  for  life 
towards  the  boats.  There  were  but  few,  alas !  of 
the  brave  marines;  it  seemed  as  if  they  must  have 
grasped  their  muskets  to  the  last,  and  gone  down 
with  those  heavy  weights  in  their  hands.  Eagerly 
the  boats  pulled  backwards  and  forwards  among 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  159 

their  fellow  creatures  still  floating  in  the  water;  as 
rapidly  as  they  could  they  pulled  them  on  board, 
till  at  length  all  who  appeared  alive  were  Rescued. 
But  it  was  too  certain  that  a  very  large  number 
both  of  officers  and  crew  had  gone  down  in  the 
sinking  ship. 

Such  has  been  the  fate  of  many  a  gallant  crew  in 
every  part  of  the  world.  The  survivors  were  car- 
ried on  board  the  frigate,  and  treated  with  every 
kindness  which  the  officers  and  crew  were  able  to 
bestow.  The  gallant  captain  of  the  line-of-battle 
ship,  two  of  his  lieutenants,  and  several  inferior  of- 
ficers, with  nearly  half  of  the  marines,  were  lost. 
The  frigate  having  once  more  hoisted  her  boats  on 
board,  made  sail  for  Port  Royal. 

The  Earl  of  Kilfinnan,  on  discovering  the  name  of 
the  frigate  by  which  he  had  been  rescued,  inquired 
at  once  for  his  son.  His  cheek  turned  pale  when 
he  did  not  see  him  with  the  midshipmen  of  the  ship. 
The  truth  was  told  him  that  he  had  been  wounded. 

"  But  he  is  doing  well,  my  lord,"  said  the  surgeon 
to  whom  he  was  speaking;  "  before  long  I  hope  he 
will  be  able  to  return  to  his  duty." 

Lady  Sophy  could  with  difficulty  conceal  her  feel- 
ings when  she  heard  that  Captain  Falkner  com- 
manded the  ship  to  which  she  had  been  conveyed, 
while  it  would  be  impossible  to  describe  the  satis- 


160  Shore  and  Ocean. 

faction  which  she  experienced.  Nora  insisted  at 
once  on  going  down  and  seeing  poor  Barry,  who 
was  still  unable  to  leave  his  cot.  At  first  he  would 
scarcely  believe  who  it  was  who  stood  before  him, 
and  for  some  time  he  fancied  himself  in  a  dream, 
and  asked  whether  he  had  not  got  an  increase  of 
fever. 

"O  no,  dear  Barry,"  answered  Nora,  "in  a  short 
time  you  will  be  well,  and  it  will  be  a  good  excuse 
for  you  to  come  and  live  on  .shore  with  us.  I  hear 
the  place  we  are  going  to  is  very  beautiful,  high  up 
on  the  side  of  a  mountain,  far  above  all  the  mists 
and  vapours  which  bring  the  yellow  fever  into  this 
part  of  the  world.  And  papa,  you  know,  is  to  be 
the  governor,  so  that  he  will  not  feel  the  change 
from  Kilfinnan  Castle  so  great  as  he  might  have 
done,  for,  of  course,  the  people  will  treat  him  with 
great  respect,  and  that  you  know  he  likes,  although 
he  does  not  talk  about  it;  and  we  shall  have  horses 
to  ride  about  the  country,  and  plenty  of  people  to 
attend  upon  us,  and  there  are  a  number  of  curious 
fruits  and  animals,  and  creatures  of  all  sorts  which 
we  shall  have  to  see.  Now  I  fully  expect  to  be  very 
interested,  and  so  must  you  be,  Barry,  and  I  dare- 
say Captain  Falkner  will  occasionally  come  and  see 
dear  Sophy,  and  that  will  make  her  very  happy." 

Thus  Nora  ran  on  in  her  light-hearted  way,  anx- 


The  Heir  of  Kit 1  finnan.  161 

ious  to  raise  her  brother's  spirits.  She  felt  somewhat 
sad,  however,  when  she  looked  at  him,  for  the 
bright  glow  in  his  cheeks  was  gone,  and  he  looked 
so  pale  and  thin  that  she  began  to  fear  he  might  be 
worse  than  the  doctor  said  he  was.  After  the  hur- 
ricane the  frigate  had  a  fine  passage  to  Port  Royal. 
There,  having  landed  all  her  supernumeraries  by  the 
orders  of  the  admiral,  she  once  more  sailed  to  carry 
the  Earl  to  his  destination.  He  was  received  with 
the  usual  honours  of  a  Lieutenant-Governor,  and 
carriages  were  in  waiting  to  convey  him  to  his  coun- 
try seat,  on  the  side  of  the  mountain  which  had 
been  described  by  Nora.  It  was  a  lovely  spot,  with 
streams  gushing  down  from  the  side  of  the  steep 
heights  above  the  house,  while  the  wide  terrace  in 
front  afforded  ample  room  for  exercise. 

Far  below  the  white  buildings  of  the  chief  town 
was  to  be  seen  the  intermediate  country,  covered 
with  the  richest  tropical  vegetation,  while  in  the  dis- 
tance was  the  deep  blue  sea,  dotted  here  and  there 
with  the  white  sails  of  vessels  of  various  sizes. 
Barry  of  course  had  leave  to  accompany  his  father 
on  shore,  and  he  begged  that  his  friend  Denham 
should  be  allowed  to  pay  them  a  visit. 

"  He  has  been  watching  over  me  so  carefully 
while  I  was  sick  on  board,  that  it  would  seem  un- 
grateful in  me  if  I  did  not  ask  him  to  come  with 
ii 


1 62  Shore  and  Ocean. 

us.  Besides,  he  is  so  excellent  a  fellow — so  brave, 
and  daring,  and  generous.  I  do  not  mean  to  say 
in  the  matter  of  money,  because  he  has  none  of 
that,  for  he  was  only  a  few  years  ago  placed  on  the 
quarter-deck,  but  I  mean  in  his  behaviour.  He 
never  takes  offence,  and  never  thinks  ill  of  any- 
body, and  he  will  never  allow  any  of  the  younger 
fellows  to  be  bullied  by  the  elder,  whom  he  is 
strong  enough  to  keep  in  order,  and  there  are  not 
many  who  can  beat  him  in  any  way." 

The  next  day,  accordingly,  the  Earl  wrote  a  note 
to  Captain  Falkner,  requesting  that  Mr.  Denham 
might  be  allowed  to  pay  him  a  visit.  Captain 
Falkner,  who  had  been  much  pleased  with  the 
conduct  of  the  young  midshipman,  was  glad  to 
accede  to  the  Earl's  request,  and  told  Denham  to 
prepare  for  a  visit  on  shore.  Denham  made  some 
excuse  with  regard  to  his  outfit. 

"Oh,  I  will  settle  all  that,"  answered  the  captain 
kindly,  "I  must  be  your  banker,  remember,  and 
just  go  on  shore  at  once,  and  we  will  get  Mr.  True- 
fit  to  rig  you  out  in  the  course  of  a  few  hours. 
They  do  not  take  long  to  do  that  sort  of  thing  out 
here." 

Thus  all  difficulties  were  overcome,  and  the  fol- 
lowing day  Denham  found  himself  on  his  way  to 
the  new  Governor's  house. 


CHAPTER  XL 

A  S  soon  as  Denham  approached  the  Govern- 
ment house,  Barry,  who  had  seen  him  from 
the  window,  hastened  forward  to  meet  him,  and 
after  the  first  greetings,  said  that  he  must  introduce 
him  at  once  to  the  Earl,  and  his  sister,  and  cousin. 

"  You  will  like  the  girls,"  he  whispered  to  Den- 
ham,  "  you  must  be  entirely  at  your  ease  with  them, 
remember,  they  are  not  fine,  they  have  no  nonsense 
about  them,  just  as  girls  should  be;  if  they  were 
otherwise,  I,  for  one,  would  not  own  them.  I  have 
no  idea  of  girls  giving  themselves  airs." 

Saying  this,  Barry  led  Denham  into  the  drawing- 
room.  The  young  midshipman  seemed  to  have  the 
habit  of  blushing,  for  in  spite  of  all  he  could  do,  the 
colour  mounted  to  his  cheeks  when  he  made  his  bow, 
a  very  graceful  one,  by-the-by,  to. the  two  young 
ladies.  He  conversed  with  ease,  but  the  subjects  of 
his  conversation,  as  far  as  he  selected  them,  were 
entirely  confined  to  the  scenes  he  had  witnessed  in 
the  West  Indies,  or  to  a  few  books  which  he  had  the 


164  Shore  and  Ocean. 

opportunity  of  reading  since  he  had  been  on  board 
the  frigate.  As  to  England,  or  any  other  part  of 
the  world,  he  seemed  to  know  nothing  whatever,  as 
far  at  least  as  his  own  experience  went.  He  did  not 
speak  either  of  his  family  or  of  any  friend  he  pos- 
sessed, and  they  soon  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
he  was  either  a  foundling  or  an  orphan,  without  any 
relation  whom  he  wished  to  own.  Still  they  were 
very  much  pleased  with  his  general  conversation. 

Captain  Falkner,  in  the  evening,  came  up  to  the 
Government  house,  and  he  then  said  that  the 
Admiral  had  directed  him  to  take  a  cruise  for  a  few 
weeks,  and  that,  at  the  end  of  the  time,  he  would 
come  back  for  his  midshipmen.  He  was  able, 
however,  to  remain  at  anchor  two  or  three  days, 
and,  as  will  be  supposed,  he  spent  most  of  his  time 
on  shore  in  Lady  Sophy's  company.  No  one  could 
watch  the  two  without  agreeing  that  they  were 
admirably  matched.  She,  gentle  and  intelligent, 
and  affectionate;  he,  frank  and  brave,  and  open- 
hearted  in  his  manner  and  bearing.  He  was  known, 
too,  as  a  just,  brave,  high-spirited  officer,  and  a 
very  first-rate  seaman,  and  more  than  that,  to  be  a 
God-fearing  religious  man. 

The  two  midshipmen,  it  should  have  been  re- 
marked, when  last  at  Jamaica,  had  passed  their 
examination,  which  gave  them  the  rank  of  mas- 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan,  165 

ters'  mates,  as  they  were  called  in  those  days. 
They  had  been  for  some  time  on  shore  when,  a 
mail  arriving,  the  Earl  presented  Denham  with 
a  long  official-looking  letter.  Denham  eagerly 
opened  it.  His  heart  beat  quicker  than  usual;  the 
colour  rose  to  his  cheeks,  and  his  eyes  beamed 
with  pleasure,  for  he  found  that  the  document  an- 
nounced his  being  raised  to  the  rank  of  lieuten- 
ant. The  Earl  seemed  to  be  aware  of  the  fact, 
and  soon  after  addressed  him  as  "Lieutenant 
Denham." 

-"But  has  not  Barry  also  got  his  promotion?" 
asked  Denham,  looking  at  his  friend. 

"Yes,"  answered  Barry,  "I  am  a  lieutenant  too, 
but  I  do  not  feel  as  you  do,  because  I  am  sure  I 
have  not  deserved  it.  You  have  done  all  sorts  of 
gallant  things,  and  I  have  done  nothing." 

The  Earl   laughed. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "provided  those  who  deserve 
promotion  obtain  it,  the  Admiralty  do  not  object 
to  raise  a  few  who  have  less  to  boast  of." 

"  But  I  am  sure  you  would  have  done  all  sorts 
of  gallant  things  if  you  had  had  the  opportunity," 
said  Lady  Nora,  turning  to  her  brother  with  a  smile. 

"  I  hope  this  will  not  remove  me  from  the  Cyn- 
thia" said  Denham;  "  I  should  indeed  be  sorry  to 
quit  Captain  Falkner  and  my  old  shipmates." 


i66  Shore  and  Ocean. 

"  I  think  not,"  answered  the  Earl.  "  From  what 
I  hear  from  the  Admiral  who  writes  to  me  on  the 
subject,  the  first  lieutenant  of  the  Cynthia  has  been 
promoted,  and  another  officer  has  left  the  ship,  so 
that  you  two  will  get  the  vacancies.  I  hope  in 
the  course  of  another  month  or  so  she  will  return 
from  Jamaica,  and  that  Barry  will  rejoin  her  with 
renewed  health." 

The  father's  hope  buoyed  him  up,  while  Denham 
could  not  help  acknowledging  that  he  saw  his 
friend  every  day  growing  weaker  and  weaker.  It 
was  evident  that  the  injuries  he  had  received  in 
the  cutting-out  expedition  had  been  more  severe 
than  had  been  supposed,  and  that  his  system  had 
received  a  shock  from  which  it  had  never  recov- 
ered. Nora,  too,  was  scarcely  aware  of  the  dan- 
ger of  her  brother.  Lady  Sophy,  perhaps,  had 
suspected  it,  but  could  not  bring  herself  to  speak 
of  it  to  her  cousin.  Barry  himself  declared  that 
he  felt  better  every  day,  though  he  showed,  by  his 
disinclination  to  take  exercise,  that  he  was  much 
weaker  than  he  was  ready  to  acknowledge. 

At  length  the  frigate  came  back,  and  the  two 
young  lieutenants  rejoined  her.  When,  however, 
Lord  Barry  came  on  board,  the  surgeon  kindly  told 
him  that  he  thought  he  would  be  better  off  by 
remaining  on  shore  a  little  longer  with  his  father. 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  167 

The  surgeon  saw  that  a  great  change  had  taken 
place  in  him. 

Barry  declared  he  was  fully  capable  of  doing  his 
duty,  but  the  surgeon  persisted  in  advising  him  to 
return  home. 

"  I  am  sure  a  little  more  rest  will  do  you  good," 
said  Captain  Falkner,  looking  at  him  compas- 
sionately; "we  will  manage  to  have  your  duty 
done  on  board,  and  we  must  hope  that  in  a  short 
time  you  will  be  sufficiently  recovered  to  resume  it 
yourself." 

The  Earl  was  somewhat  surprised  at  seeing  Barry 
return,  but  Captain  Falkner,  who  accompanied  him, 
endeavoured  to  tranquilize  his  mind;  and  though  he 
could  not  honestly  say  his  son  would  recover,  he 
remarked  that  youth  and  a  good  constitution  often 
enable  persons  to  gain  strength  when  otherwise  it 
might  be  hopeless. 

The  Cynthia  was  ordered  to  cruise  about  the 
Windward  Islands;  a  dangerous  locality,  but  where 
she  would  have  many  places  to  visit.  Captain  Falk- 
ner observed  that  he  should  frequently  have  to  call 
off  the  island,  and  that  he  hoped  to  see  the  Earl 
and  his  family  whenever  he  did  so. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  describe  the  beautiful 
scenery  of  the  island  now  placed  under  the  govern- 
ment of  the  Earl.  The  ground  is  broken  into  hills 


1 68  Shore  and  Ocean. 

and  valleys,  and  here  and  there  lofty  mountains 
rise,  towering  high  up  into  the  blue  sky.  Good 
roads,  however,  are  cut  across  the  island  in  every 
direction,  and  thus  not  only  were  the  young  ladies 
able  to  drive  about,  but  they  also  had  the  pleasure 
of  taking  long  rides  to  many  scenes  of  beauty,  ac- 
companied by  Barry,  who,  though  he  did  not  appear 
to  recover  his  strength,  was  still  able  to  sit  on 
horseback.  A  number  of  planters  were  settled 
about  the  island,  many  of  whom  were  men  of  ed- 
ucation, and  all  were  glad  to  offer  hospitality  to  the 
Earl  and  his  sick  son.  The  Earl  hoped  by  travel- 
ling about,  and  by  amusing  Barry's  mind,  to  assist 
in  the  restoration  of  his  health.  They  had  on  one 
occasion  gone  to  a  planter's  house  at  the  back  of 
the  island,  a  day's  journey  from  the  Earl's  country 
residence,  and  situated  near  the  sea. 

The  spot  was  a  very  beautiful  one.  In  the  back- 
ground rose  ranges  of  mountains,  feathered  to  their 
very  summits  with  green  foliage.  On  one  side  of 
the  grounds  were  plantations  of  coffee  and  sugar. 
The  sandy  beach  stretched  like  a  line  of  silver 
along  the  edge  of  the  blue  water,  fringing  the 
cane-fields,  which  formed  a  broad  expanse  of  vivid 
green  behind  them.  Along  the  coast  were  lovely 
little  coves  and  bays,  enlivened  by  neatly  laid  out 
mansions  of  the  planters,  while  numerous  fishing 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  169 

and  passage  boats,  with  their  raking  masts  and  lat- 
teen  sails,  added  life  and  animation  to  the  scene. 
A  bright  and  sparkling  stream,  which  found  its  way 
down  from  the  mountains  above,  passed  through  the 
plantation,  and  added  much  to  the  refreshing  cool- 
ness of  the  scene  in  that  warm  climate.  A  broad 
verandah  ran  round  the  house,  on  one  side  of  which 
or  the  other  shade  could  be  obtained  at  all  times  of 
the  day.  A  couple  of  days  had  been  spent  very 
pleasantly  at  this  abode,  when  one  evening,  just  as 
the  sun  was  about  to  sink  through  a  rain  cloud  into 
the  distant  horizon,  an  old  white-headed  slave  came 
hurriedly  into  the  presence  of  his  master. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Caesar,"  asked  Mr.  Jefferson, 
the  planter.  The  old  man  shook  his  head. 

"  Very  bad,  very  bad." 

"  Speak,  boy ;  have  you  lost  your  wits  ? "  ex- 
claimed the  planter  impatiently. 

"  No,  massa ;  but  me  hear  there  come  one  hun- 
dred Caribs  and  many  white  men,  and  a  whole  lot 
of  negroes,  to  burn  the  house  this  night  and  the 
plantations ;  and  they  swear  that  they  will  kill  all 
the  people." 

At  first  the  planter  was  inclined  to  laugh  at  this 
information,  so  indeed  was  the  Earl ;  but,  on  a  fur- 
ther examination,  the  statements  of  the  negro  were 
so  clear — and  he  was  so  well  able  to  explain  how 


i^o  Shore  and  Ocean. 

he  obtained  his  knowledge  —  that  they  began  to 
think  more  seriously. 

"It  is  too  late  now,"  observed  the  planter,  "for 
your  lordship  to  attempt  to  return  to  the  town ; 
indeed,  you  would  be  very  likely  to  fall  in  with 
these  rebels;  but  I  have  several  trusty  slaves  on  the 
estate  who  I  am  sure  would  be  ready  to  lay  down 
their  lives  for  my  sake.  I  will  send  Caesar  to  sum- 
mon them  into  the  house,  and  as  I  know  that  we 
can  make  a  better  stand  here  than  at  the  residences 
of  any  of  the  other  planters,  I  shall  be  able  to  per- 
suade several  of  them  to  come  here  with  their  fam- 
ilies, and  assist  in  the  defence  of  the  place." 

"In  the  mean  time  we  must  send  off  for  assist- 
ance," observed  the  Earl ;  "  I  am  perfectly  ready  to 
agree  to  your  proposition ;  indeed,  I  should  be  very 
unwilling  to  attempt  to  travel  with  my  two  young 
ladies  and  son  at  this  hour;  besides  which  we  should 
probably  be  watched,  and  if  we  were  so,  we  should 
eventually  be  captured  by  these  people.  But  what 
could  have  caused  them  to  think  of  rebelling  ? " 

"  Probably,  my  lord,  emissaries  from  France  have 
landed  on  the  island,  and  also  there  are  several  dis- 
contented settlers  of  other  nations,  besides  Caribs 
and  blacks,  who  are  always  ready  for  a  disturbance, 
in  the  hopes  of  gaining  something  during  it." 

"  However,"  observed  the  Earl,  who  in  his  youth 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  171 

had  been  a  soldier,  "we  must  make  preparations  for 
defending  the  place;  I  have  had  a  little  experience 
of  that  sort  of  thing  in  Ireland,  and  I  suspect  there 
is  not  much  difference  between  the  characters  we 
shall  have  to  deal  with  and  those  I  have  been  ac- 
customed to  in  my  native  country." 

Mr.  Jefferson,  as  he  had  proposed,  immediately 
sent  out  three  of  his  most  trusty  household  ser- 
vants, with  notes  to  the  neighbouring  planters,  in- 
viting them  to  take  refuge  in  his  house,  while  the 
other  servants  of  the  establishment  were  at  once 
ordered  to  come  in.  A  number  of  trees  from  the 
neighbouring  woods  were  forthwith  cut  down  and 
brought  into  the  house,  to  assist  in  barricading  the 
windows  and  doors.  Every  available  board,  tops 
of  tables  and  chests  were  broken  up  to^  close  all  the 
entrances^  loop-holes  being  cut  in  them  through 
which  muskets  could  be  fired  at  the  advancing  foe. 
Neither  Lady  Sophy  nor  Lady  Nora  seemed  much 
alarmed  at  seeing  the  preparations. 

"It  reminds  me  very  much  of  our  younger  days," 
observed  Lady  Sophy  to  her  cousin.  "  You  remem- 
ber what  work  there  was  in  defending  the  old  cas- 
tle, though  that  appeared  to  us  to  be  a  far  better 
place  to  defend  than  this  is.  Still  as  our  friends  do 
not  appear  to  be  alarmed  I  do  not  see  why  we 
should  be." 


172  Shore  and  Ocean. 

Lord  Barry  seemed  aroused  by  the  exertions  he 
was  called  on  to  make,  and  set  to  work  with  zeal  in 
assisting  in  fortifying  the  house;  all  languor  had 
disappeared,  and  he  was  now  full  of  animation.  In 
a  short  time  the  gentlemen  who  had  been  sum- 
moned arrived  at  the  house.  Most  of  them  came 
attended  by  servants  well  armed,  and  several  who 
had  families  brought  them  also,  not  forgetting  to 
bring,  at  the  same  time,  a  supply  of  provisions. 
They  all  knew  that  some  time  might  elapse  before 
they  could  get  assistance.  Indeed,  if,  as  was  not 
improbable,  there  was  a  general  rising  of  the  Caribs 
and  blacks  on  the  island,  the  small  number  of 
troops  stationed  in  the  garrison  would  be  fully  oc- 
cupied in  attempting  to  put  them  down,  and  per- 
haps none  could  be  spared  to  come  to  their  relief. 
None  of  the  party,  however,  appeared  alarmed. 
They  held  the  people  it  was  expected  would  attack 
them  in  too  much  contempt  not  to  feel  perfectly 
secure  with  the  preparations  they  had  had  time  to 
make.  The  Earl's  chief  annoyance  arose  in  not 
having  himself  received  information  of  the  intended 
rising,  as,  of  course,  he  felt  himself  responsible  for. 
the  well-being  of  the  country.  He,  however,  took 
care  to  exhibit  no  doubt  or  hesitation,  and  did  his 
utmost  to  keep  up  the  resolution  of  those  collected 
about  him.  It  should  have  been  said,  that  the  day 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  173 

after  the  Cynthia  left  the  harbour,  a  boat  with  sev- 
eral men  had  contrived  to  escape  from  the  side  of 
the  ship. 

It  happened  in  the  following  manner.  During 
the  latter  part  of  the  middle  watch,  while  the  night 
was  excessively  dark,  there  was  a  shout  of  a  man 
overboard.  The  wind  was  light.  A  boat  was  or- 
dered to  be  lowered,  and  to  pull  in  the  direction 
in  which  the  man  was  supposed  to  have  floated. 
There  was  no  cry,  however,  though  a  splash  was 
heard,  and  fears  were  therefore  entertained  that  he 
had  sunk,  or  had  become  the  prey  of  a  shark;  there 
was  far  more  confusion  than  usual  on  board  at  the 
time,  and  several  voices  were  heard  exclaiming, 
that  he  was  crying  out,  and  that  the  sound  came 
from  a  different  direction  to  that  in  which  the  first 
boat  had  gone.  Without  waiting  for  orders,  an- 
other boat  was  immediately  lowered;  it  was  known 
that  several  men  had  jumped  into  her,  and  shoved 
off  without  an  officer;  when  it  was,  as  on  the  pres- 
ent occasion,  a  matter  of  life  and  death,  this  was 
not  of  much  consequence.  Away  the  boat  pulled 
from  the  ship,  and  no  officer  took  upon  himself  to 
call  her  back.  At  length,  however,  it  appearing 
certain  that  the  man  must  have  sunk,  or,  what  was 
too  likely,  been  carried  off  by  a  shark,  the  boats 
were  recalled  on  board.  One  only  returned.  In 


i^4  Shore  and  Ocean. 

vain  the  other  was  summoned.  No  answer  was 
made  to  the  repeated  calls  of  the  boatswain.  A 
gun  was  fired;  still,  after  waiting  a  certain  time,  the 
boat  did  not  return.  It  was  strange  that  no  one 
could  tell  in  which  direction  she  had  gone.  It  was 
scarcely  possible  that  any  accident  could  have  hap- 
pened to  her;  for,  even  if  she  had  filled  with  water, 
the  men  in  her  would  certainly  have  cried  out.  The 
ship  at  the  time  was  supposed  to  be  about  five  or 
six  leagues  from  the  land,  which  had  been  seen  at 
sundown  over  the  weather  quarter.  Since  then  the 
wind  had  been  very  light,  and  the  ship  had  made 
but  little  way.  The  natural  conclusion  to  which 
Captain  Falkner  came  was,  the  boat  must  have 
pulled  on  shore,  and  made  several  tacks  in  that 
direction.  A  strong  gale,  however,  coming  on  in 
a  short  time,  he  was  unable  to  beat  up  to  the  island; 
and  after  making  an  attempt  for  some  hours  in  vain, 
having  despatches  on  board,  he  was  obliged  to  bear 
up  for  his  destination.  He  intended,  however,  on 
his  return  to  make  inquiries  for  the  boat,  in  case  she 
should  have  reached  the  shore.  Now,  it  happened 
that  the  mutineer,  Higson,  had  managed  to  win 
over  six  of  the  men  to  assist  him  in  escaping  from 
the  ship.  At  his  suggestion  a  log  had  been  thrown 
into  the  water,  and  the  cry  was  raised  that  a  man 
was  overboard.  This  done,  he  had  no  great  diffi- 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  175 

culty  in  leaving  the  ship.  While  in  harbour  he  had 
had  frequent  communications  with  various  persons 
disaffected  to  the  Government.  He  had  by  chance 
fallen  in  with  one  of  them  when  he  was  on  shore, 
and  this  led  to  his  communication  with  others.  Be- 
lieving that  the  larger  portion  of  the  population 
would  join  in  a  rebellion,  he  entertained  the  idea 
of  making  himself  of  some  importance  in  the  coun- 
try, fully  believing  that  assistance  would  be  gained 
from  the  French  or  Dutch,  and  that  the  people 
might  make  themselves  independent  of  England. 
With  this  object  in  view,  he  determined  to  leave 
the  ship. 

His  success  was  complete,  and  he  managed  before 
dawn  to  land  safely  on  the  island.  Here  the  boat 
was  broken  up,  and  a  cave  by  the  shore  being  found, 
the  fragments  were  piled  up  in  it  and  completely 
consumed;  thus  he  hoped  all  trace  of  his  landing 
was  lost.  He  had  some  difficulty  in  finding  the  peo- 
ple with  whom  he  had  before  communicated,  but  at 
length  they  met,  and  he  at  once  entered  seriously 
into  the  plans  which  had  been  proposed  for  over- 
powering the  British  troops,  and  taking  possession 
of  the  country.  He  knew  where  the  Earl  was  living, 
and  entertaining  a  personal  grudge  against  him  for 
the  part  he  had  played  in  sending  him  on  board  a 
man-of-war,  he  resolved  on  wreaking  his  vengeance 


176  Shore  and  Ocean. 

in  the  first  place  on  his  head.  On  visiting  the 
governor's  country  house  he  discovered  that  the 
Earl  had  gone  to  the  plantation  of  Mr.  Jefferson, 
and  he  immediately  determined,  with  such  aid  as  he 
could  collect,  to  attack  it,  in  the  hopes  of  at  once 
either  capturing  the  Earl  or  destroying  him  and  his 
family. 

Happily,  having  to  deal  with  people  with  whom 
he  was  little  acquainted,  his  plans  were  not  kept 
so  secret  as  they  might  otherwise  have  been,  and 
the  faithful  old  Caesar  thus  got  information  re- 
specting them. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

OOME  hours  passed  quietly  away  at  Mr.  Jeffer- 
son's country-house  after  all  the  preparations 
had  been  made  for  the  reception  of  their  expected 
assailants,  and  yet  no  enemy  appeared. 

Higson  and  the  other  leaders  had  some  difficulty 
in  bringing  up  their  forces  to  the  attack.  They  had 
discovered  that  the  house  had  been  fortified,  and 
they  were  well  aware  that  a  victory  could  not  be 
obtained  without  a  considerable  loss  to  themselves. 
Higson  had  been  on  shore  for  some  weeks  before 
these  preparations  were  made.  Sometimes  his  mind 
misgave  him,  especially  when  he  saw  that  the  Brit- 
ish troops  in  the  garrison  were  thoroughly  disci- 
plined, and  always  on  the  alert,  and  that  even  a  reg- 
iment of  black  troops,  whom  it  was  hoped  might  be 
gained  over,  refused  to  desert  their  colours.  The 
conspirators  had  then,  not  without  a  considerable 
risk,  to  send  to  the  French  and  other  enemies  of  Eng- 
land to  obtain  their  assistance.  This  was  readily 
enough  promised,  but  they  were  told  that  they  must 
12 


178  Shore  and  Ocean. 

themselves  commence  the  rebellion,  and  that  then 
ample  assistance  would  be  forthcoming.  At  length 
Higson  and  his  associates  gained  courage,  and  they 
hoped  by  an  attack  on  Mr.  Jefferson's  house,  and  by 
the  capture  of  so  many  persons  of  consequence,  to 
obtain  an  influence  over  the  rest  of  the  people  of  the 
island  which  would  at  once  give  them  the  upper 
hand. 

Several  hours  of  the  night  had  passed  away;  Lady 
Sophy  and  Lady  Nora,  with  the  rest  of  the  ladies, 
were  advised  to  lie  down,  it  being  hoped,  that  per- 
haps after  all,  an  attack  might  not  be  made.  Scouts 
were,  however,  sent  out  to  watch  for  the  approach- 
ing enemy.  At  length  two  of  them  came  hurrying 
back,  announcing  that  they  heard  the  approach  of 
feet  up  from  the  sea.  This  was  the  most  assailable 
side  of  the  house.  The  stream,  which  has  been 
spoken  of  with  its  precipitous  banks,  circled  round 
two  sides,  while  a  high  cliff,  the  summit  of  which 
was  inaccessible,  formed  another  side  of  the  grounds. 
In  front  also,  the  ground  sloped  rapidly  down,  so 
that  unless  by  steps,  which  had  been  strongly  barri- 
caded, no  one  could  approach  up  from  the  sea,  even 
on  that  side,  without  considerable  difficulty.  The 
Earl  and  his  friends  at  length  observed  through  cer- 
tain look-out  places,  which  had  been  formed  on  the 
roof  of  the  upper  story,  that  a  large  body  of  men 


The  Heir  of  Kil finnan.  179 

were  scaling  the  hill  in  a  somewhat  irregular  manner. 
At  first  they  came  on  in  silence,  but  on  a  warm  fire 
being  opened  upon  them,  they  gave  vent  to  loud 
shouts  and  shrieks,  and  rushed  as  rapidly  up  the  hill 
as  the  nature  of  the  ground  would  allow  them.  At 
the  same  time  a  number  of  persons  in  the  rear  lighted 
torches,  which  they  bore  in  their  hands,  and  shook 
them  wildly  about,  as  if  to  terrify  those  they  came 
to  attack.  Perhaps  also,  they  believed  that  by  this 
means  they  would  distract  the  attention  of  the  be- 
sieged, and  prevent  them  taking  a  steady  aim  at 
those  in  the  front.  The  sight  of  the  torches  raised 
in  Mr.  Jefferson's  mind  an  apprehension  which  he 
had  not  before  entertained.  He  knew  too  well  the 
cumbustible  nature  of  his  dwelling  and  that  if  it  en- 
tered the  minds  of  the  rebels,  they  might  without 
difficulty  set  the  house  on  fire. 

"  If  they  do,"  he  thought,  "  we  must  retreat  by 
the  back  of  the  house  and  defend  ourselves  under 
the  cliffs.  We  may  still  perhaps  be  able  to  hold 
our  own  against  these  fellows  until  assistance 
comes,  but  the  poor  ladies,  I  tremble  for  them." 

He  did  not,  however,  express  these  apprehen- 
sions to  the  Earl,  but,  like  a  brave  man,  did  his 
best  to  encourage  those  around  him.  As  the  ene- 
my approached,  they  opened  a  fire  at  the  doors 
and  windows  of  the  house,  but  as  these  had  been 


i  So  Shore  and  Ocean. 

well  barricaded,  the  bullets  fell  harmlessly  against 
them.  A  considerable  number  of  the  rebels  were 
soon  struck  down,  either  killed  or  wounded.  Those 
in  the  house  did  not  fire  until  the  enemy  ap- 
proached near.  The  greater  number  of  them  were 
good  marksmen.  All  knew,  likewise,  that  they 
fought  for  their  lives,  and  for  the  lives  of  those 
most  dear  to  them.  At  length  Barry  proposed 
sallying  out  and  endeavouring  to  put  the  enemy 
to  flight. 

"  The  time  may  come  for  that  by  and  by,"  said 
Mr.  Jefferson.  "  In  the  meantime  let  us  be  content 
to  hold  our  own  till  assistance  can  arrive  from  the 
town,  or  till  the  rebels  have  discovered  that  they 
are  incapable  of  overcoming  us." 

The  men  who  were  waving  the  torches  had  hith- 
erto not  ventured  near  the  house,  but  had  con- 
tented themselves  with  springing  here  and  there 
and  attempting  to  dazzle  the  eyes  of  the  besieged 
party.  Higson,  who  had  himself  hitherto  kept  un- 
der shelter,  now  began  to  fear  that  his  allies  would 
give  way,  and  the  attack  would  altogether  fail. 
He  knew  the  nature  of  buildings  in  the  West  In- 
dies; and  finding  that  the  little  garrison  were  not 
likely  to  be  overcome  by  the  present  mode  of  at- 
tack, he  determined  to  set  fire  to  the  house,  and 
then  to  seize  those  who  were  likely  to  prove  most 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  181 

valuable  to  him,  as  they  were  escaping  from  the 
burning  building.  He  immediately  issued  an  order 
to  the  men  with  torches  to  rush  forward,  at  the 
same  time  directing  others  to  collect  all  the  dry 
brushwood  they  could  find,  and  to  pile  it  up  in  the 
verandah.  Those,  however,  who  first  advanced 
were  received  with  so  hot  a  fire  that  several  were 
killed  or  wounded,  and  the  rest  sought  safety  in 
flight.  Again  and  again  Higson  urged  them  to 
renew  the  attempt,  and  finding  this  did  not  avail, 
he  ordered  the  main  body  to  retreat,  greatly  to  the 
relief  of  the  garrison.  The  whole  body  of  their 
enemies  were  seen  descending  the  hill,  and  they 
began  to  congratulate  themselves  that  they  had 
gained  an  easy  victory.  No  one  had  been  killed 
within  the  house,  although  several  had  been  struck 
by  bullets  which  had  found  their  way  through  the 
loopholes  or  the  too  thinly  planked  windows. 

The  Earl  and  his  friends  were  not  left  long  in 
doubt  about  the  intentions  of  the  rebels.  In  a  short 
time  they  were  seen  rushing  up  the  hill  again,  num- 
bers bearing  bundles  of  reeds  and  other  combusti- 
ble substances,  and  others  flaming  torches  in  their 
hands.  In  spite  of  the  hot  fire  with  which  they 
were  received,  they  dashed  forward  and  threw  the 
bundles  into  the  verandah.  Several  fell  in  the  at- 
tempt, but  the  great  mass  persevered  and  the  men 


1 82  Shore  and  Ocean. 

with  the  torches  now  advancing,  cast  them  amidst 
the  heaps  of  brushwood.  In  a  few  seconds  the 
whole  was  in  a  blaze.  The  woodwork  of  the  build- 
ing soon  caught  fire,  and  it  became  evident  to  the 
besieged  that  the  house  would  not  long  be  tenable. 
Still,  as  long  as  any  could  remain  on  the  front  side, 
they  continued  to  fire  at  the  rebels. 

Mr.  Jefferson  now  called  a  Council  of  War,  and 
explained  to  his  friends  the  plan  he  proposed  for 
effecting  their  escape.  The  Earl  agreed  that  the 
undertaking  was  feasible,  though  they  might  be  ex- 
posed to  far  greater  peril  than  they  had  hitherto 
been;  still  it  was  the  only  one,  since  the  house 
could  no  longer  be  held,  for  when  once  the  flames 
had  gained  entire  possession  of  it,  the  negroes  and 
Caribs  would  probably  make  a  dash  forward  through 
the  fire  and  put  all  they  could  meet  with  to  death. 
Hitherto  none  of  the  rebels  had  ventured  to  go 
round  to  the  rear  of  the  house.  Indeed,  when  any 
had  tried  to  pass  by  either  of  the  sides,  they  had 
met  with  so  warm  a  fire  that  even  the  boldest  had 
not  dared  to  proceed,  while  many  had  been  struck 
down  in  the  attempt. 

"  We  must  place  the  ladies  in  our  centre  and 
retreat  to  the  cliff,"  said  Mr.  Jefferson. 

Lord  Fitz  Barry  and  three  or  four  of  the  men 
agreed  suddenly  to  burst  open  the  door,  and  then 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  183 

lead  the  way  in  the  direction  Mr.  Jefferson  had  in- 
dicated. The  plan  was  adopted,  while  some  of  the 
men  continued  to  fire  down  upon  their  assailants. 

The  ladies  were  carried  safely  out,  surrounded  by 
an  armed  party,  to  the  rear  of  the  house.  Not  until 
they  had  been  placed  in  comparative  safety  did  the 
rest  of  the  men  withdraw  from  their  now  almost 
untenable  position.  At  length  the  whole  front  of 
the  house  was  in  flames.  The  fire  soon  caught  the 
rest  of  the  building,  and  scarcely  had  the  last  de- 
fender left  it,  than  the  combustible  roof  fell  in  with 
a  loud  crash.  The  negroes  shouted  and  shrieked 
with  glee  when  they  saw  this,  and  rushed  for- 
ward as  had  been  anticipated,  in  the  hopes  of 
gaining  an  easy  victory  over  their  now  defenceless 
opponents. 

Many  of  them  were  severely  burnt,  as  they  dashed 
forward  into  the  building,  and  were  glad  again 
quickly  to  retreat.  Not  till  the  whole  edifice  was 
one  blazing  heap,  did  they  discover  that  the  inmates 
had  escaped  them.  By  the  light  of  the  flames  which 
continued  burning  brightly,  the  negroes  perceived 
the  Lieutenant  Governor  and  the  planters  with  their 
families  posted  at  the  side  of  the  cliff. 

For  some  time,  warned  by  the  treatment  they  had 
received,  they  hesitated  to  advance,  but  at  length 
Higson,  animated  by  the  success  which  had  already 


184  Shore  and  Ocean. 

attended  his  efforts,  rushed  forward,  calling  to  his 
men  to  follow  him,  and  made  a  dash  towards  the 
Earl.  He  thought  that  if  he  could  once  get  him  into 
his  power,  the  victory  would  be  gained.  The  negroes 
were  perfectly  ready  to  follow  when  others  led,  and 
thus  a  band  of  shouting,  shrieking  wretches,  ad- 
vanced close  to  where  the  European  party  had  taken 
shelter.  Already  many  had  begun  to  climb  the 
heights,  and  a  stout  black  ruffian  had  actually  got 
so  close,  that  he  was  able  to  lay  his  hand  upon  the 
Earl's  shoulder.  Higson  shouted  to  the  man  to 
drag  forward  the  Governor,  in  order  to  make  him 
prisoner.  At  that  moment  Fitz  Barry,  seeing  the 
danger  that  his  father  was  in,  sprang  forward  to  his 
rescue,  and  with  a  blow  of  his  cutlass,  compelled  the 
man  to  let  go  his  hold.  In  the  meantime,  however, 
Higson,  with  the  runaway  seamen,  whom  he  had 
persuaded  to  follow  him,  made  a  dash  at  that  part 
of  the  terrace  where  the  ladies  were  collected.  The 
dawn  had  now-broken,  so  that  they  were  soon  found 
without  the  light  from  the  burning  house.  Lady 
Nora,  seeing  the  approach  of  the  ruffians,  cried  to 
her  brother  for  help.  He,  however,  found  himself 
surrounded  by  a  number  of  blacks,  who  pressed  him 
so  hard  that  he  was  unable  to  reach  her.  In  the 
meantime  the  planters  continued  to  fire  down  upon 
their  assailants,  the  great  body  of  whom  were  kept 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  185 

at  bay.  Higson  at  length  turned,  and  ordered  more 
of  his  followers  to  come  to  his  assistance.  He  had 
already  seized  Lady  Nora,  well  satisfied  that  should 
he  fail  to  capture  the  Earl,  she,  at  all  events  would 
prove  a  valuable  prize.  Two  other  ladies  were  also 
carried  off,  and  in  vain  did  their  defenders  attempt 
by  a  bold  dash  to  rescue  them.  Higson,  elated  at 
his  success,  and  at  the  same  time  fearful  lest  the 
bullets  which  were  flying  about  might  strike  any 
of  his  captives,  and  probably  glad  himself  to  avoid 
them,  made  a  wide  circuit  to  gain  the  sea-shore. 
He  was  already  separated  from  the  main  body  of 
the  insurgents,  when  suddenly  he  was  startled  with 
a  loud  shout  close  to  him,  and  before  he  could  turn 
round  to  defend  himself,  he  was  attacked  by  a  body 
of  seamen,  led  on  by  a  lieutenant.  The  increasing 
light  revealed  to  him  several  of  his  late  shipmates, 
and  the  new  lieutenant,  Mr.  Denham.  Surprised  by 
the  attack,  for  the  boat's  crew  had  sprung  upon  them 
from  behind  a  thicket,  Higson  and  his  companions 
at  once  let  go  their  captives.  A  blow  from  the  cut- 
lass of  one  of  the  men  brought  him  to  the  ground, 
while  the  rest  of  his  party — more  than  one  half  were 
either  killed  or  wounded — sought  safety  in  flight. 
They  were  not  far  from  the  sea-shore.  "You  must 
allow  me,  Lady  Nora,  to  place  you  with  the  other 
ladies  on  board  the  boat,"  said  Denham.  "  You  will 


1 86  Shore  and  Ocean. 

there  be  in  safety,  and  the  crew  will  row  off  to  a 
short  distance,  while  I,  with  the  rest  of  my  men,  go 
to  the  rescue  of  your  father,  and  the  remainder  of 
the  party."  To  these  plans  Lady  Nora  willingly 
agreed,  and  in  a  few  minutes  she  found  herself  with 
her  friends  on  board  a  man-of-war's  boat,  which, 
with  four  men,  pulled  off  out  of  gun-shot  from  the 
shore.  Anxiously  she  watched  what  was  taking 
place,  as  far  as  she  could  see.  Still  the  firing  con- 
tinued, and  Lieutenant  Denham  and  his  party  hurry- 
ing again  up  the  hill,  she  soon  lost  sight  of  them 
amongst  the  woods.  Deep  was  her  anxiety  for  her 
father  and  brother,  and  Lady  Sophy,  who  remained 
with  the  planters  and  their  friends,  while  she  could 
not  help  feeling  anxious  for  the  risk  to  which  the 
young  lieutenant  and  his  small  party  of  men  were 
exposed,  in  the  presence  of  so  large  a  body  of 
rebels. 

The  outhouses  and  other  buildings  on  the  estate 
had  now  caught  fire,  and  their  flames  showed  the 
insurgents  still  clustering  round  the  side  of  the  hill, 
though  the  continued  discharge  of  musketry  in  the 
far  distance  made  her  hope  that  the  Earl  and  his 
party  were  still  defending  themselves.  Now  the  fire 
of  the  English  party  seemed  to  slacken;  now  more 
dark  forms  were  seen  climbing  up  the  hill.  Then 
again,  the  defenders  of  the  height  increased  their 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  187 

fire,  and  even  at  that  distance  she  fancied  she  could 
hear  the  shouts  of  the  combatants.  At  length  her 
attention  was  drawn  off  the  scene,  by  hearing  one 
of  the  crew  exclaim,  "Here  comes  the  frigate,"  and 
she  saw  rising  above  a  woody  point  on  one  side  of 
the  bay,  the  snow-white  sails  of  the  Cynthia,  as 
close-hauled  she  stood  along  the  land.  The  sound 
of  the  firing  must  have  reached  her.  She  imme- 
diately hauled  into  the  bay.  The  anchor  was 
dropped,  the  sails  furled,  and  several  boats  were 
seen  to  come  off  from  her  side.  In  a  short  time  the 
boats  approached,  and  the  men  informed  the  offi- 
cers in  them  of  the  orders  they  had  received  from 
Lieutenant  Denham,  adding  that  they  had  three 
ladies  in  their  boat.  "Take  the  ladies  to  the  frig- 
ate," answered  one  of  the  officers;  "give  way,  my 
lads,  there  is  no  time  to  be  lost."  The  boats  dashed 
on.  Nora  thanked  Heaven  for  their  arrival,  hop- 
ing by  this  means  those  she  dearly  loved  might  be 
saved,  as  well  as  those  friends,  whose  hospitality  they 
had  been  enjoying.  The  boats  quickly  reached  the 
beach,  and  the  men,  all  well  armed,  dashed  forward 
up  the  hill,  led  by  their  officers.  Attacking  the  en- 
emy fiercely  in  the  flank,  the  latter,  who  had  appar- 
ently not  seen  their  approach  were  taken  by  sur- 
prise. Those  who  resisted  were  cut  down,  the  rest 
taking  to  flight  along  the  shore.  No  one  stopped 


1 88  Shore  and  Ocean. 

to  look  behind  him  or  see  what  had  become  of  his 
neighbour.  The  seamen  quickly  scaled  the  heights, 
and  reached  the  spot  where  the  Earl  and  his  party 
still  held  their  position.  Unhappily  several  had 
been  badly  wounded,  among  whom  were  two  of 
the  ladies,  and  three  or  four  planters,  while  others 
had  been  killed.  Of  the  insurgents,  a  very  consid- 
erable number  had  been  struck  down.  The  wounded 
now  began  to  utter  loud  shrieks  and  groans,  to  ex- 
cite the  commiseration  of  their  conquerors.  At 
present,  however,  little  could  be  done  for  them. 
Those  of  the  English  who  had  been  wounded  were 
at  once  conveyed  on  board  the  frigate,  where  they 
could  receive  medical  treatment.  Indeed  so  alarmed 
had  the  planters  become,  that  they  requested  that 
they  and  their  families  might  be  taken  on  board 
with  the  Earl.  The  frigate  lay  at  anchor  in  the 
bay.  As  soon  as  those  who  had  been  wounded  on 
the  side  of  the  planters  had  been  cared  for,  the  as- 
sistant-surgeon with  a  boat's  crew  was  humanely 
sent  on  shore  to  attend  to  the  unhappy  blacks  and 
Caribs  who  had  been  hurt.  A  few  had  in  the  mean- 
time crawled  off.  Others  had  died,  but  still  a  con- 
siderable number  remained  and  required  attention. 
Among  the  dead  was  found  the  unhappy  Higson. 
No  one  knew  what  could  have  induced  him  to  join 
in  so  mad  a  scheme,  but  those  who  had  watched 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  189 

his   conduct   on   board  were   not   surprised   at   his 
behaviour. 

On  the  return  of  the  frigate  to  the  chief  town, 
it  was  found  that  the  garrison  had  been  warned 
in  time.  A  considerable  number  of  troops  had 
marched  unmolested  through  the  country,  visiting 
the  places  which  were  said  to  be  most  disaffected, 
and  in  a  few  days  the  rebel  forces  had  completely 
melted  away.  A  few  men  who  were  caught  and 
accused  of  leading  the  rebellion  suffered  the  pen- 
alty of  death,  others  had  managed  to  make  their 
escape  from  the  island.  It  was  found,  however, 
that  they  had  been  instigated  to  the  rebellion 
by  foreign  emissaries,  and  even  the  captive  reb- 
els themselves  acknowledged  they  had  few  causes 
of  complaint  against  the  English  government. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

r  I  "'HE  outbreak  being  thus  speedily  quelled,  the 
Earl  was  enabled  very  soon  to  return  in 
safety  to  his  country  residence.  He  had  there  a 
severe  affliction  awaiting  him.  Owing  either  to 
the  over-exertions  made  by  Lord  Fitz  Barry  on 
the  night  of  the  attack  at  the  planter's  house,  or 
from  some  other  cause,  his  disease  from  that  time 
gained  rapid  ground.  His  friend  Denham  now  felt 
greatly  alarmed  at  the  change  which  he  remarked 
in  him,  and  saw  too  clearly  that  he  was  destined 
to  remain  but  a  short  time  longer  on  earth.  The 
surgeon  also,  who  had  known  him  some  years,  was 
of  the  same  opinion.  Captain  Falkner  felt,  though 
most  reluctantly,  that  it  was  his  duty  to  convey 
the  sad  information  to  his  father  and  sister.  The 
Earl  refused  to  believe  it,  but  Nora  saw,  with  grief, 
the  sad  change  which  even  a  few  days  had  made 
in  her  beloved  brother.  He  could  now  only  sit  up 
for  a  short  time  in  an  arm-chair. 

In  consequence  of  the  rebellion  the  Cynthia  had 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  191 

to  remain  for  some  time  in  the  harbour,  and  ac- 
cordingly Denham  was  able  to  obtain  leave  to  re- 
main with  his  friend.  He  and  Nora,  therefore, 
were  constantly  by  the  side  of  the  dying  youth. 
Barry  would  not  for  some  time  believe  that  his  own 
end  was  approaching.  Often,  with  tears  in  her 
eyes,  Nora  spoke  to  him  of  that  happy  land  to 
which  all  those  who  trust  in  the  Rock  of  Ages  are 
certainly  bound. 

"There  will  be  no  more  sorrow,  no  more  suffer- 
ing, no  more  fighting,  no  more  wounds  in  that  land, 
dear  Barry,"  she  said,  taking  his  hand.  "Still,  life 
is  sweet.  I  wish  you  could  have  remained  with  us; 
but  we  must  bow  to  God's  will.  They  say  you  have 
not  many  more  days  to  remain  on  earth,  Barry;  but 
surely  we  must  feel  the  parting  more  severely — we 
who  have  to  remain  in  this  world  exposed  to  so 
many  dangers,  than  you  should,  who  have  to  go  to 
that  land  of  joy  and  rest." 

The  young  lieutenant  shook  his  head. 

"It  is  hard  for  me  to  acknowledge  that,  dear 
Nora,"  he  answered.  "I  care  not  for  the  dangers; 
and  there  are  so  many  things  to  enjoy  in  this  life, 
that  I  had  hoped  to  remain  in  it  to  a  good  old  age. 
I  have  everything  to  make  life  pleasant,  and  can 
you  be  surprised,  then,  that  I  should  be  unwilling 
to  quit  it  without  a  sigh?" 


192  Shore  and  Ocean. 

"O!  no,  no,"  she  answered.  "I  know  that;  but 
still,  remember,  it  is  but  to  enter  into  a  life  of  eter- 
nal joy  that  you  leave  this  world  of  trials.  Because, 
let  us  deceive  ourselves  as  we  may,  there  are  many 
causes  which  must  bring  us  sorrow  and  pain.  You 
remember  how  we  grieved  when  our  dear  mother 
was  taken  from  us,  and  then  it  was  very  sad  to  leave 
the  old  castle,  and  then,  too,  we  have  sorrowed  on 
account  of  our  father,  that  his  property  has  suffered 
so  much,  and  though  we  have  been  very  lovingly 
dealt  with  by  God,  yet  He  has  not  allowed  life  to 
be  so  delightful  to  us  that  we  should  be  willing  to 
remain  here  for  ever." 

Denham  spoke  to  his  friend  in  the  same  strain. 
Often  did  his  heart  swell  within  him  as  he  had 
to  address  the  dying  youth,  and  many  a  time  he 
dashed  away  from  his  eyes  the  fast-falling  tears  as 
he  thought  that  in  a  few  days  they  must  part,  never 
again  to  meet  in  this  world.  He  had  seen  several 
of  his  shipmates  cut  down  by  the  sword  of  the 
enemy.  Young  as  he  was,  death  was  no  stranger 
to  him.  The  saddest  loss  he  had  ever  yet  experi- 
enced was  that  of  his  brave  and  gentle  friend,  with 
his  youth  and  rank  and  many  noble  qualities.  Even 
to  the  end,  which  came  at  last,  the  Earl  could  not 
believe  that  his  son  was  dying. 

It  was  daytime.     The  soft  breeze  came  in  through 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  193 

the  open  window.  He  sat,  as  usual,  in  his  chair, 
with  his  sweet  sister  on  one  side  and  his  friend  Den- 
ham  on  the  other.  His  hands  were  placed  in  theirs. 
He  felt  that  he  was  about  to  take  his  departure. 

"  Kiss  me,  Nora,"  he  said. 

Denham  felt  him  press  his  hand  for  an  instant ; 
then  the  fingers  relaxed,  and  he  sank  back,  and 
they  both  saw  that  his  spirit  had  fled. 

Nora  did  not  give  way  to  tears ;  her  grief  was  too 
deep  for  that.  Denham  felt  that  he  could  not  ven- 
ture to  comfort  her ;  he  dared  not  even  trust  his 
voice  in  words.  Happily,  Sophy  came  in,  and  the 
attendants  were  summoned,  and  Nora  was  led  away 
to  her  chamber. 

Denham's  leave  had  just  then  expired.  He  went 
to  pay  his  farewell  respects  to  the  Earl ;  but  Lord 
Kilfinnan  entreated  him  to  remain. 

"  I  will  write  to  Captain  Falkner,"  he  said.  "  He 
will  not  insist  upon  your  returning  on  board  just 
now.  I  must  have  you  with  me.  You  are  my  son's 
dearest  friend.  I  know  that  from  the  way  he  spoke 
of  you.  I  cannot  let  you  go.  You  must  stop  and 
comfort  a  broken-hearted  old  man.  And  poor  No- 
ra, she  will  feel  his  death  dreadfully.  Well,  '  God's 
will  be  done ; '  perhaps,  after  all,  the  poor  lad  would 
have  found  that  he  had  but  a  scant  inheritance  to 
support  his  title." 


194  Shore  and  Ocean. 

Denham  remained  in  the  house  as  desired,  having 
obtained  leave  from  Captain  Falkner  to  do  so.  He 
occasionally  saw  Lady  Nora,  who  spoke  to  him 
kindly  and  gently,  as  she  naturally  would  do  to  her 
late  brother's  friend.  Lady  Sophy  was  far  more 
cordial  in  her  manner.  He,  however,  conversed 
but  little  with  the  Earl.  Indeed,  it  was  very  evi- 
dent that  Lord  Kilfinnan  could  not  trust  his  voice 
to  speak  about  his  son.  After  the  funeral  Denham 
once  more  returned  on  board. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

A  GAIN  the  Cynthia  sailed  on  a  cruise.  She  had 
to  visit  various  parts  of  the  West  Indies; 
sometimes  cruising  off  the  Leeward,  and  sometimes 
off  the  Windward  Islands.  Now  to  convoy  a  fleet 
of  merchant  vessels  from  one  port  to  another,  and 
occasionally  to  accompany  them  part  of  the  way 
across  the  Atlantic,  till  they  were  clear  of  the  re- 
gion infested  by  the  enemy's  smaller  privateers. 

Several  months  were  thus  occupied  in  a  some- 
what tedious  manner.  Small  prizes  had  been  taken; 
but  these  did  not  satisfy  the  ardent  mind  of  the 
gallant  captain,  who  appeared  to  be  longing  to 
meet  an  enemy  the  size  of  his  own  frigate,  a  more 
worthy  competitor  than  any  of  the  vessels  he  had 
hitherto  encountered.  At  length,  Captain  Falkner 
and  his  young  lieutenant  were  enabled  once  more 
to  pay  a  visit  to  the  Earl  and  his  family.  Denham 
was  received  as  kindly  as  before;  and  it  was  very 
evident  the  affection  existing  between  Lady  Sophy 
and  Captain  Falkner  had  in  no  way  decreased. 


196  Shore  and  Ocean. 

During  the  last  day  of  his  stay  on  shore,  however,  a 
degree  of  melancholy  seemed  to  weigh  down  his 
captain  at  times.  Occasionally  he  talked  in  his 
usual  lively  and  animated  manner,  and  spoke  hope- 
fully of  the  future,  when,  the  war  being  ended,  he 
might  with  honour  sheath  his  sword  and  take  up 
his  abode  on  shore. 

"At  present,  however,"  he  remarked,  "while  my 
country  demands  my  services  I  am  bound  to  remain 
afloat." 

The  frigate,  however,  was  again  ordered  to  sea, 
and  the  lovers  parted,  hoping  ere  long  to  meet 
again.  Captain  Falkner  was  unusually  silent  dur- 
ing his  drive  to  the  port,  and  when  he  arrived  on 
board  he  retired  to  his  cabin,  and  it  was  not  until 
the  moment  the  ship  had  to  get  under  weigh  he  ap- 
peared on  deck.  He  was  tjien  as  full  of  life  and 
activity  as  usual,  and  issued  his  orders  in  that  clear 
ringing  voice  by  which  he  was  so  well  known.  As 
the  frigate  under  all  sail  stood  out  to  sea,  Denham 
more  than  once  observed  his  captain  turning  his 
glass  towards  the  governor's  house  high  up  on  the 
mountain  side.  In  his  mind's  eye  he  probably  saw 
her  who  had  so  deservedly  won  his  brave  heart, 
though  the  distance  was  in  reality  too  great  to  have 
discovered  any  human  being.  Denham  felt  very 
much  inclined  to  imitate  his  commander's  example; 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  197 

but  though  he  lifted  his  telescope,  he  quickly  low- 
ered it  again. 

"No,  no;  what  folly  in  me  to  indulge  in  so  idle 
a  dream,"  he  said  to  himself,  turning  away.  "I 
was  received  as  Barry's  friend,  and  treated  with 
kindness  accordingly;  but  I  should  only  deservedly 
bring  down  scorn  and  ridicule  on  myself  if  I  were 
ever  to  aspire  to  a  greater  intimacy  than  that  which 
has  hitherto  been  allowed  me." 

"  Well,  Denham,  we  must  not  return  without  an 
enemy's  frigate  in  tow,"  observed  Captain  Falkner, 
as  he  was  one  day  walking  the  deck,  with  his  young 
lieutenant.  "The  Frenchmen  have  several  fine  ves- 
sels out  in  these  seas  at  present,  and  we  must  try 
and  diminish  their  numbers.  Let  us  but  catch  sight 
of  one  of  them,  and,  unless  she  has  a  very  fast  pair 
of  heels,  she  shall  be  our  prize  before  many  hours 
are  over." 

"No  doubt  of  that,  sir,"  answered  Denham,  laugh- 
ing. "We  have  now  as  fine  a  ship's  company  as 
were  ever  collected  together,  having  cleared  out  the 
black  sheep  who  were  among  them,  and  they  are  in 
as  good  temper  as  men  need  be." 

"A  sail  on  the  lee-bow,"  shouted  the  look-out 
from  aloft. 

"What  is  she  like?"  asked  the  captain. 

"A  full-rigged  ship,  sir,"  was  the  answer. 


198  Shore  and  Ocean. 

There  was  a  fresh  northerly  breeze  at  the  time, 
and  the  frigate  was  under  easy  sail. 

"Turn  the  hands  up,  Mr.  Hansom,"  observed  the 
captain  to  the  first  lieutenant.  "  Make  all  sail." 

"All  hands  on  deck,"  shouted  the  boatswain, 
piping  his  whistle  at  the  same  time. 

The  crew  speedily  made  their  appearance,  and  in 
a  few  seconds  were  seen  clustering  on  the  yards 
aloft.  The  ship  was  kept  away,  studding-sails  and 
royals  were  set;  and  the  frigate,  gliding  rapidly  over 
the  water,  stood  towards  the  stranger.  The  latter, 
though  she  must  have  seen  her  coming,  showed  no 
inclination  to  avoid  her;  but,  on  the  contrary,  hauled 
her  wind,  that  they  might  the  sooner  meet.  Every 
spy-glass  was  in  requisition  on  board  the  Cynthia, 
and  most  of  the  officers  went  aloft,  that  they  might 
take  a  better  view  of  the  stranger.  In  a  short  time 
she  was  pronounced  to  be  a  frigate  of  equal  size  to 
their  own.  Some,  however,  thought  her  larger. 
That  she  might  be  so,  and  under  an  enemy's  flag, 
was  the  wish  of  all.  It  is  strange  how  eager  men  are 
to  encounter  those  they  consider  it  lawful  to  engage 
with  in  fight,  to  wound  and  slay  each  other.  They 
think  not  of  the  pain  and  suffering  they  may  inflict, 
or  may  themselves  undergo.  They  eagerly  seek  for 
the  excitement  of  the  strife,  the  triumph  of  victory. 
They  seem  to  forget  entirely  what  far  greater  tri- 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  199 

umphs  await  those  who  labour  on  in  civil  life  to  ad- 
vance the  interests  of  humanity,  to  win  the  desert 
from  barrenness,  to  make  it  smile  as  a  fruitful  gar- 
den, and  the  glorious  triumph  which  is  reserved  for 
those  who  struggle  on  bravely  in  the  service  of  their 
Heavenly  Lord  and  Master.  Still,  we  are  describing 
men  as  they  are,  not  as  they  should  be;  and  prob- 
ably on  board  that  frigate  there  was  not  a  single 
man  who  had  the  slightest  doubt  that  the  sentiments 
which  animated  his  bosom  were  otherwise  than  right 
and  noble,  and  superior  to  all  others. 

A  shout  burst  from  the  mouths  of  the  crew  of  the 
Cynthia  when  the  French  flag  was  seen  to  be  run 
up  to  the  peak  of  the  stranger.  She  was  standing 
on  with  all  plain  sail  set,  and  was  manoeuvring  in 
order  to  gain  the  weather-gauge.  The  Cynthia's 
studding-sails  and  more  lofty  canvas  having  been 
taken  in,  she  also  tacked  in  order  not  to  let  her 
antagonist  gain  this  advantage.  At  length  they 
approached  sufficiently  near  each  other  to  allow 
the  bow  guns  of  the  Cynthia  to  take  effect. 

"Mr.  Hansom,  let  us  see  if  we  cannot  knock 
away  some  of  her  spars,"  observed  the  captain. 

"Ay,  ay,  sir,"  answered  Mr.  Hansom,  going  for- 
ward and  taking  the  match  in  his  hands. 

There  was  a  good  deal  of  sea  running  at  the  time, 
so  that  the  aim,  even  of  the  best  marksman,  was 


2OO  Shore  and  Ocean. 

likely  to  prove  uncertain.  He  waited  his  opportu- 
nity however.  As-  the  bows  of  the  frigate  rose  he 
applied  the  match,  and,  some  white  splinters  were 
seen  to  fly  from  the  enemy's  topmast.  A  cheer 
burst  from  the  throats  of  the  crew  who  saw  the 
success  of  the  experiment.  It  was  looked  upon  as 
a  good  omen  for  the  future.  The  cheer,  however, 
was  repressed  by  the  officers.  The  men  stood  at 
their  quarters.  The  captains  of  guns  with  their 
matches  in  their  hands,  most  of  them  stripped  to 
the  waist,  to  allow  them  the  better  to  work  the 
tackles,  and  also,  should  they  be  wounded,  to  es- 
cape the  injury  which  any  piece  of  clothing  was  sure 
to  cause,  should  it  be  carried  into  their  bodies  by 
the  shot.  It  was  a  scene  which  a  painter  might 
have  delighted  to  copy,  exhibiting  the  sturdy  forms 
of  the  seamen,  their  countenances  determined  and 
bold,  and  utterly  devoid  of  any  appearance  of  fear. 
Many,  indeed,  were  passing  rough  and  coarse  jokes 
one  from  the  other,  and  the  slightest  excuse  gave 
cause  to  a  hearty  laugh.  It  would  have  been  diffi- 
cult for  a  stranger  to  believe,  that  the  men  who 
were  before  him  were  entering  into  a  struggle  for 
life  and  death,  or  that  the  combat  between  the  two 
beautiful  frigates  now  sailing  in  sight  of  each  other, 
would  probably  end  in  the  destruction  of  one  of 
them.  Each  sail  was  well  set,  every  yard  perfectly 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  201 

braced,  and  all  the  ropes  taut  and  uninjured.  Thus 
they  stood  on,  slowing  nearing  each  other,  till  at 
length  the  Frenchman  attempted  to  haul  across  the 
Cynthia 's  bows,  for  the  purpose  of  delivering  a  rak- 
ing fire.  This  the  latter  avoided  by  hauling  up. 

"  Fire,"  cried  the  captain,  as  the  broadside  of  the 
frigate  bore  upon  that  of  the  enemy.  A  loud  roar 
of  artillery  was  the  response.  Several  shots  seemed 
to  take  effect,  some  in  the  hull,  others  in  the  rigging. 
The  CyntJiia  herself  did  not  escape  injury,  and  two  of 
her  crew  were  seen  struggling  in  their  death  agonies 
on  the  deck.  The  two  frigates  now  ran  on  side  by 
side,  firing  their  guns  as  rapidly  as  they  could  be 
loaded.  Again  a  shout  burst  from  the  throats  of 
the  English  crew,  as  the  Frenchman's  fore-topmast 
was  seen  to  go  over  the  side.  It  was  evident,  too, 
that  their  shots  were  taking  effect  upon  the  French- 
man's hull,  for  several  were  seen  to  strike  him 
between  wind  and  water,  which  with  the  sea  then 
running  was  very  likely  in  a  short  time  to  reduce 
him  into  a  sinking  state.  Still  the  latter  worked  his 
guns  with  as  much  determination  as  at  first,  aided 
by  musketry  whenever  the  ships  approached  near 
enough  for  the  bullets  to  take  effect.  By  this  means 
a  considerable  number  of  the  crew  of  the  English 
frigate  were  struck  down,  many  of  whom  were  killed, 
while  others  were  carried  bleeding  below. 


2O2  Shore  and  Ocean. 

The  superior  strength  and  activity  of  the  English 
seamen  soon  told  against  that  of  the  enemy,  for 
while  the  latter  were  delivering  two  broadsides  the 
English  managed  to  fire  three,  their  shot,  too,  being 
better  directed.  Still  the  French  ensign  flew  out  at 
the  enemy's  peak,  and  there  appeared  to  be  no  in- 
tention on  his  part  of  lowering  it.  The  contest  was 
evidently  to  be  a  severe  and  protracted  one.  The 
Cynthia  had  already  lost  nearly  thirty  of  her  crew, 
and  in  all  probability  the  Frenchman  must  have 
suffered  in  a  far  greater  degree.  At  length  they 
drew  so  close  that  the  muzzles  of  their  guns  almost 
touched,  when  the  enemy,  putting  down  his  helm, 
ran  his  bows  into  those  of  the  British  ship,  the 
bowsprit  coming  directly  across  the  foremast.  Cap- 
tain Falkner,  calling  to  Denham  and  those  who 
were  near  him  at  the  time,  sprang  forward  and 
attempted  to  lash  the  bowsprit  to  the  mast  of  his 
own  ship.  Denham  saw  his  faithful  follower,  Ned 
Davis,  by  his  side.  While  the  captain  was  in  the 
act  of  passing  a  rope  round  the  mast,  a  bullet  from 
the  musket  of  a  marine  stationed  in  the  French- 
man's top,  struck  him  on  the  breast.  He  fell  back, 
and  Denham  had  just  time  to  catch  him  in  his  arms 
to  save  him  from  falling  heavily  upon  the  deck. 
Davis  had  at  that  moment  seized  the  rope  which 
the  captain  had  let  go. 


DEATH  OF  CAPTAIN  FALKNEK. 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  203 

"Secure  the  bowsprit,"  cried  the  captain;  "do 
not  let  the  enemy  sheer  off.  Now  place  me  on  the 
deck;  I  fear  that  I  am  mortally  wounded,  but  do 
not  let  the  people  know  it..  In  a  few  minutes  the 
Frenchman's  frigate  will  be  ours.  See,  they  are 
attempting  to  board,  but  drive  them  back  and  they 
will  not  long  keep  their  flag  flying.  On  !  on  !  do 
not  heed  me." 

Denham,  calling  to  some  of  the  crew,  ordered 
them  to  take  the  captain  below,  while  he  flew  to 
obey  his  dying  orders. 

"Boarders,  repel  boarders,"  he  shouted,  drawing 
his  own  sword,  and  springing  towards  the  point 
where  the  Frenchmen  were  seen  clustering  in  their 
rigging  about  to  spring  on  the  deck  of  the  Cynthia. 
The  latter,  already  disheartened  by  the  loss  of  so 
many  of  their  shipmates,  were  quickly  driven  back, 
while  the  Cynthia's  guns  continued  pouring  broad- 
side after  broadside  into  the  hull  of  their  ship. 

"See,  see,  down  goes  the  French  flag,"  cried 
the  English  crew,  and  little  knowing  the  loss  they 
had  sustained,  they  once  more  gave  forth  that 
hearty  British  cheer  which  has  so  often  sounded 
in  the  moment  of  victory.  The  dying  captain 
heard  it  as  Denham  reached  his  side. 

"Tell  her  my  last  thoughts  were  about  her,"  he 
murmured  as  the  lieutenant  took  his  hand,  and 


2O4  Shore  and  Ocean. 

sinking  back,  his  eyes  were  in  another  moment 
closed  by  the  hand  of  death. 

The  two  ships  had  parted  in  consequence  of  the 
heavy  sea  which  had  now  got  up.  For  the  same 
reason  the  task  of  transferring  the  crew  of  the 
prize  to  the  victor  was  one  of  considerable  diffi- 
culty. The  first  lieutenant,  now  in  command  of 
the  Cynthia,  hailed  the  enemy  to  send  a  boat  on 
board;  but  his  reply  was  that  he  had  none  which 
would  swim,  all  having  been  injured  in  the  engage- 
ment. Fortunately  most  of  the  Cynthids  boats 
were  in  a  better  condition,  and  Denham,  taking 
the  command,  at  once  proceeded  on  board  the 
prize.  He  found,  though  the  frigate  was  French, 
that  a  Dutch  officer  commanded  her,  who  seemed 
much  down-hearted  at  the  loss  of  his  ship. 

The  young  lieutenant  had  already  been  in  several 
engagements,  but  never  had  he  seen  a  deck  present 
a  more  sad  spectacle  than  that  of  the  Frenchman. 
In  all  directions  lay  the  bodies  of  the  slain,  and 
several  wounded  men  who  had  not  yet  been  con- 
veyed below.  They  were  all  of  them  too  much 
injured  to  be  removed  to  the  Cynthia,  and  they 
were  therefore  carried  below.  The  prisoners  were 
at  once  ordered  to  get  up  their  bags,  and  to  enter 
the  boats,  which  immediately  conveyed  them  on 
board  their  captor. 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  205 

Some  time  was  occupied,  however,  in  this  work, 
as  the  heavy  sea  which  now  ran  prevented  them 
from  making  a  rapid  passage.  The  Dutch  officer 
commanding  the  ship,  had  given  up  his  sword  to 
Lieut.  Denham,  who  remained  on  board,  ready  to 
take  charge  of  the  prize.  He  himself  had  not  had 
time  to  go  below,  to  observe  the  damages  that  the 
prize  had  sustained,  but  from  the  report  made  to 
him  by  the  late  commander,  he  was  under  the  ap- 
prehension that  they  were  ^  very  severe.  Indeed, 
from  the  peculiar  way  the  ship  rolled,  he  dreaded 
that  she  had  taken  in  a  large  amount  of  water.  He 
accordingly  requested  the  Dutchman,  who  spoke 
English  very  well,  to  send  his  carpenter  below,  to 
make  a  report  of  her  condition.  The  man  in  a 
short  time  returned  on  deck  with  a  pale  face,  de- 
claring he  did  not  believe  she  would  float  for  many 
hours  longer.  By  this  time  the  wind  had  increased 
so  much,  and  so  heavy  a  sea  was  running,  that  it 
was  a  matter  of  danger  to  pass  between  the  two 
ships,  which  were  at  some  distance  from  each  other. 
The  boats,  with  the  last  cargo  of  the  prisoners,  had 
left  her,  and  were  close  alongside  of  the  Cynthia. 
Denham  therefore  ordered  his  own  crew  to  make 
every  effort  to  stop  the  leaks,  but  they  soon  found, 
from  the  amount  of  water  which  was  pouring  in, 
that  this  would  be  difficult,  if  not  impossible. 


2o6  Shore  and  Ocean. 

"Well,"  he  remarked  to  the  Dutchman,  after 
every  effort  had  been  made  to  put  a  stop  to  the  en- 
trance of  the  water,  "as  soon  as  the  boats  return, 
we  must,  I  fear,  abandon  the  ship.  You  have  de- 
fended her  nobly,  and  perhaps  have  less  cause  to 
regret  this  occurrence  than  we  have,  who  hoped  to 
carry  her  into  port  in  triumph." 

"  You  of  course  will  return  to  your  own  ship  as 
you  please,"  answered  the  Dutch  officer;  "but  for 
my  part  I  cannot  desert  my  poor  wounded  fellows 
below,  and  unless  there  is  time  to  remove  them, 
should  the  ship  sink  beneath  my  feet,  I  must  go 
down  with  her." 


CHAPTER  XV. 

TN  vain  Denharti  urged  the  brave  Dutchman  to 
save  his  own  life,  and  promised  to  use  his  best 
exertions  in  removing  those  who  were  least  hurt 
among  the  wounded  men.  He  was  looking  anx- 
iously for  the  return  of  the  boats.  One,  however, 
only  was  seen  to  put  off  from  the  side  of  the  frigate 
with  the  remainder  of  the  prize  crew,  Mr.  Hansom 
deeming  it  imprudent  to  allow  more  than  neces- 
sary to  make  the  passage.  It  was  not  without  con- 
siderable difficulty  that  this  boat  reached  the  side 
of  the  prize.  Again  Denham  urged  the  captain  to 
quit  her,  but  he  refused  on  the  same  plea  as  before. 
Indeed,  it  was  very  evident  the  boat  herself  would 
only  carry  in  one  trip  the  prize  crew.  Denham  had 
ordered  all  the  men  to  go  into  the  boat,  and  at 
length  finding  that  the  Dutchman  persisted  in  re- 
maining on  board,  he  could  not  bring  himself  to 
desert  the  brave  fellow. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "I  will  remain  too,  and  assist 
the  men  on  board  to  keep  the  ship  afloat,  for  I  feel 


2o8  Shore  and  Ocean. 

I  have  no  business  to  detain  my  own  people  with 
so  great  a  risk." 

"If  you  remain,  Mr.  Denham,  so  will  I,"  ex- 
claimed Ned  Davis,  who  had  followed  his  friend. 
"  It  may  be,  if  we  keep  the  pumps  going,  that  the 
ship  will  float  until  there  is  time  to  get  more  boats 
alongside." 

Before  he  allowed  the  boat  to  shove  off  Denham 
wrote  a  short  note  to  Mr.  Hansom,  begging  him, 
unless  the  sea  continued  to  increase,  to  send  boats 
to  carry  off  the  wounded  people;  "but,"  he  con- 
cluded his  note,  "should  it  do  so,  run  no  risk  of 
losing  any  lives — leave  us  to  the  care  of  God." 

The  boat  shoved  off,  and  the  sinking  frigate  was 
left  to  struggle  alone  amidst  the  fast-rising  sea. 

The  French  crew,  encouraged  by  the  example  of 
their  gallant  captain,  exerted  themselves  to  the 
utmost  to  stop  the  leak,  while  those  not  thus  occu- 
pied stood  manfully  at  the  pumps.  By  this  means 
the  sorely  battered  frigate  continued  to  keep  afloat, 
but  each  time  the  well  was  sounded  it  was  found 
that  the  water  had  gained  somewhat  upon  her,  in 
spite  of  all  the  efforts  made  to  free  her  of  water. 

Ned  Davis  was  a  host  in  himself,  flying  here  and 
there,  aiding  in  stopping  shot-holes,  and  then  re- 
turning to  take  his  spell  at  the  pumps. 

The  young  lieutenant .  anxiously  looked  out  for 


The  Heir  of  Kil finnan.  209 

any  signs  of  change  in  the  weather,  but  that  contin- 
ued as  bad  as  ever,  till  it  became  too  evident  that 
the  frigate  could  not  much  longer  be  made  to  swim. 

Denham  thought  of  suggesting  that  the  wounded 
men  should  be  brought  on  deck  to  give  them  a 
better  chance  of  escaping;  but  the  doctor  said  they 
would  thus  to  a  certainty  perish,  and  that  if  the 
ship  went  down  it  would  be  more  merciful  to  them 
not  to  allow  them  to  see  the  approach  of  their  cer- 
tain destruction. 

The  ensign  was  hoisted  upside  down,  as  a  sign 
that  the  ship  was  in  great  distress,  and  guns  were 
fired  to  draw  the  attention  of  the  Cynthia  to  her. 
Denham  anxiously  watched  the  progress  of  his  frig- 
ate, feeling  sure  that  from  the  mode  in  which  the 
prize  laboured  in  the  sea  she  was  not  likely  to  float 
much  longer.  In  a  short  time  the  Cynthia  bore 
down  upon  her,  but  already  the  sea  ran  so  high 
that  it  was  evidently  a  risk  to  send  a  boat;  and  it 
would  have  been  almost  impossible  to  lower  wound- 
ed people  into  her.  Again  Denham  urged  the  brave 
Dutchman,  should  a  boat  be  sent,  to  accompany 
him  on  board  the  frigate. 

"No,"  he  answered;  "I  have  made  up  my  mind 
to  remain  by  these  people,  and  nothing  shall  induce 
me  to  desert  them." 

After  some  time  a  boat  was  seen  approaching 
14 


2io  Shore  and  Ocean. 

from  the  Cynthia.  Denham  now  feeling  it  was  his 
duty  to  save  his  own  life  as  well  as  that  of  his  peo- 
ple, ordered  them  to  take  the  opportunity  as  she 
drew  near  of  leaping  into  her.  A  few  of  the  French 
crew,  who  were  not  wounded,  followed  their  exam- 
ple. While  Denham  remained  Davis  refused  to  go 
into  the  boat.  At  length  it  was  evident  that  at  any 
moment  the  prize  might  sink. 

"  Now,"  he  exclaimed  to  Davis,  "  leap  into  her, 
and  I  will  follow."  He  shook  the  Dutchman  warm- 
ly by  the  hand.  "You  are  a  brave  man,  my  friend," 
he  said;  "and  though  I  would  stay  by  you  if  I  could 
assist  in  saving  your  life,  my  duty  to  my  men  and 
to  myself  compels  me  to  leave  you." 

"  Farewell,"  answered  the  Dutchman,  seemingly 
unmoved. 

"  No  time  to  lose,  sir,"  shouted  Davis  from  the 
boat. 

Denham  sprang  from  the  side  of  the  vessel;  and 
scarcely  had  he  reached  the  boat,  and  taken  his  seat 
in  the  stern-sheets,  when  the  bow  of  the  prize  lifted 
high  up  above  the  sea,  and  then  down  she  sank, 
lower  and  lower,  till  the  water  washed  over  her 
deck,  and  finally  closed  again  above  her  masthead. 

The  frigate's  boat  had  barely  time  to  pull  away 
clear  of  the  vortex.  Several  people  were  seen  strug- 
gling in  the  waves;  among  them  Denham  observed 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  211 

the  brave  captain,  and,  though  not  without  great 
risk,  he  ordered  the  boat  to  pull  back,  to  endeavour 
to  get  him  on  board.  Once,  as  they  neared  the 
spot,  he  disappeared,  and  Denham  feared  he  was 
lost  for  ever.  He  again,  however,  rose,  when  Ned 
Davis,  leaning  over  the  bows,  caught  hold  of  his 
jacket  and  succeeded  in  hauling  him  on  board.  He 
was  the  only  person  among  the  prisoners  who  was 
saved,  for  before  the  boat  could  reach  the  others,  all 
disappeared  beneath  the  waves.  Happily  the  boat 
had  no  great  distance  to  go,  for  it  was  only  by  great 
exertions  and  careful  management  that  she  was  kept 
afloat.  The  whole  of  the  wounded  and  many  others 
of  the  French  crew  perished. 

The  loss  of  their  prize  was  a  great  disappointment 
to  the  officers  and  ship's  company  of  the  Cynthia,  as 
they  had  only  the  bare  victory  to  boast  of,  without 
being  able  to  show  the  prize  when  they  returned  into 
port;  but  far  more  did  they  mourn  the  death  of  their 
brave  captain.  No  one  felt  it  more  than' Denham. 
To  him  he  had  been  a  warm  and  sincere  friend,  be- 
sides which  he  knew  the  agony  and  grief  it  would 
cause  to  one  who  was  expecting  his  return.  He 
dreaded  having  personally  to  communicate  what 
had  occurred,  and  he  was  greatly  relieved  by  find- 
ing that  the  frigate  was  to  put  into  Port  Royal,  Ja- 
maica, to  refit  after  the  action. 


212  Shore  and  Ocean. 

Mr.  Hansom  did  not  forget  to  mention  him  in  his 
despatches,  as  having  greatly  contributed  to  gain 
the  victory,  by  his  courage  in  assisting  to  lash  the 
enemy's  bowsprit  to  the  Cynthia's  foremast. 

"  Depend  upon  it,  Denham,"  observed  Mr.  Han- 
som, "this  will  be  marked  in  your  favour  at  the 
Admiralty;  and  when  you  have  served  your  time  as 
lieutenant,  you  will  obtain  a  commander's  rank.  I 
wouldn't  say  this  to  others, — but  I  have  a  notion 
that  you  have  a  friend  at  court,  and  a  word  from  the 
Earl,  with  so  good  an  excuse,  will  be  sure  to  gain 
whatever  he  asks  for  you." 

On  reaching  Port  Royal  Denham  felt  it  was  his 
duty  to  write  to  the  Earl,  giving  an  account  of  the 
events  that  had  occurred;  but  he  did  not  allude  even 
to  anything  he  himself  had  done,  nor  did  he  ask  for 
the  Earl's  interest  for  himself  at  the  Admiralty. 

Some  few  months  after  this  Lord  Kilfinnan  gave 
up  his  appointment,  and  returned  with  his  family  to 
his  native  land. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

TN  a  turret  chamber  in  Kilfinnan  Castle  sat  two 
young  ladies.  It  was  apparently  their  private 
boudoir.  It  had  been  elegantly  furnished,  but  the 
drapery  had  somewhat  faded,  and  the  air  of  fresh- 
ness it  had  once  possessed  had  long  since  departed. 
The  window  out  of  which  the  ladies  were  gazing 
looked  forth  over  the  wide  Atlantic,  and  the  eldest 
was  dressed  in  deep  mourning,  apparently  her  usual 
costume,  while  the  air  of  sadness  in  her  counte- 
nance seemed  to  be  habitual.  The  younger  one  was 
full  of  life  and  animation,  though  occasionally,  as 
she  looked  up  at  her  friend,  she,  too,  became  sad. 
"That  is  a  strange  story,  Sophy,  you  were  read- 
ing just  now  from  the  newspaper,"  said  the  young- 
est,— "I  mean  about  Lord  Eden;  I  cannot  under- 
stand how  a  man  of  his  rank  and  position  should 
condescend  to  marry  a  girl  of  low  degree,  however 
virtuous  or  excellent  she  might  be.  These  mes- 
alliances can  never  answer.  Too  soon  the  one  of 
more  refined  habits  and  ideas  discovers  a  degree 


214  Shore  and  Ocean. 

of  coarseness  and  vulgarity  in  the  other,  which  must 
ultimately  cause  separation.  No;  my  only  notion 
of  a  happy  union  is,  that  where  people  are  of  the 
same  rank  and  education,  and  all  their  sympathies 
are  in  unison — " 

"You  know  so  little  of  life,  dear  Nora,  that  I  do 
not  think  you  are  capable  of  judging,"  answered 
her  cousin  Sophy;  "I  do  not  say,  however,  that  in 
the  main  you  are  not  right,  but  there  may  be  ex- 
ceptions, in  which  true  happiness  may  be  found.  I 
do  not  say  Lord  Eden  is  right  in  marrying  this  girl. 
At  the  same  time,  she  may  have  more  natural  re- 
finement than  could  be  expected.  I  have  heard  of 
such  instances." 

"I,  on  the  contrary,  Sophy,  remember  hearing 
my  father  speak  of  a  very  different  case,  in  which  a 
country  girl  was  taken  out  of  her  sphere,  and  edu- 
cated, and,  I  think,  became  the  wife  of  one  of  our 
ministers.  As  long  as  she  was  at  rest,  she  appeared 
very  elegant,  but  if  she  got  at  all  excited,  or,  as 
was  sometimes  the  case,  lost  her  temper,  she  then 
exhibited  her  real  condition;  and  if,  as  I  consider, 
it  is  very  bad  for  a  man  to  marry  a  person  of  inferior 
rank,  surely  it  is  'much  worse  for  a  lady  to  marry 
one  who  is  her  inferior." 

Sophy  smiled  sadly. 

"No;   I  shall   hold    to    my  own    opinion,"   said 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  215 

Nora,  "and  I  do  not  think  that  anybody  would 
induce  me  to  marry  a  person,  however  elegant  and 
refined  he  might  appear,  unless  I  knew  he  was  of 
gentle  blood." 

The  conversation  of  the  young  ladies  was  inter- 
rupted by  Sophy  exclaiming, — 

"Bring  the  glass,  Nora;  I  see  a  vessel  standing 
in  for  the  bay.  Her  canvas  looks  very  white  and 
shining.  I  believe  she  is  a  man-of-war." 

The  telescope,  which  stood  on  a  stand,  had  been, 
for  some  purpose,  removed  from  the  window,  and 
it  was  now  brought  to  its  usual  place  by  Nora. 
They  both  looked  through  it,  one  after  the  other. 

"  Yes,  there  can  be  no  doubt  of  the  matter," 
said  Nora;  "her  square  yards,  her  tall  masts  and 
white  canvas  show  at  once  what  she  is.  She  does 
not  appear  to  me  to  be  a  frigate.  I  think  she  is 
a  smaller  vessel — a  corvette, — and  very  beautiful 
vessels  they  are." 

While  this  conversation  was  going  forward,  the 
ship  rapidly  approached  the  shore,  under  a  wide 
spread  of  canvas.  They  had  soon  an  opportunity 
of  ascertaining  her  character.  At  length  she  stood 
into  the  bay,  and,  furling  her  sails,  came  to  an 
anchor.  The  wind  was  at  that  time  sufficiently 
from  the  north  to  enable  her  to  obtain  perfect 
shelter,  and  she  floated  calmly  on  the  smooth  wa- 


216  Shore  and  Ocean. 

ters.  It  was  still  early  in  the  day.  They  watched 
for  a  short  time,  but  no  boat  could  put  off  to  ap- 
proach the  castle,  though  they  fancied  they  saw 
one  standing  in  for  another  part  of  the  bay. 

At  that  time  Ireland  was  suffering,  as  she  had 
long  been,  from  her  usual  chronic  disorder — dis- 
content. Disturbances  had  occurred  here  and  there 
in  the  west  and  south  among  the  Riband  Men,  or 
White  Boys,  or  United  Irishmen,  by  which  names 
the  rebels  were  at  different  times  and  places  known. 
The  Government,  therefore,  had  considered  it  nec- 
essary to  send  vessels  of  war  to  cruise  up  and  down 
the  coast,  that  their  blue  jackets  and  marines 
might  render  such  assistance  as  might  be  required. 
This  was  so  generally  the  case  at  present,  that  the 
arrival  of  the  corvette  did  not  cause  any  unusual 
sensation  among  the  inhabitants  of  the  coast  who 
lived  near  enough  the  sea  to  observe  her.  Several 
men-of-war  had  in  the  same  way  entered  the  bay 
of  late,  and,  after  remaining  a  few  days,  had  taken 
their  departure.  The  young  ladies  had  arranged 
that,  later  in  the  day,  they  would  take  a  ride  over 
the  downs,  and,  after  calling  on  Miss  O'Reilly,  at 
the  vicarage,  look  in  upon  some  of  the  poor  peo- 
ple whom  they  were  in  the  habit  of  visiting. 

Meantime,  we  must  go  to  the  other  end  of  the  bay, 
where  an  old  man  might  be  seen  descending  the 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  217 

narrow  gorge  which  led  down  to  the  small  cove 
where  the  Widow  O'Neil  resided.  It  was  Father 
O'Rourke.  He  proceeded  on  in  a  somewhat  medi- 
tative mood,  until  he  reached  the  cottage.  He 
opened  the  door,  and  found  the  widow  sitting  on  the 
usual  stool,  employed  in  mending  her  nets. 

"  And  what  brings  you  here,  Father  O'Rourke  ?" 
she  said,  looking  up  at  him  with  a  glance  which 
showed  that  he  was  not  a  favourite  of  hers. 

"  Widow,  I  have  come  to  speak  about  a  matter  of 
importance,"  he  answered.  "  I  hear,  in  spite  of  all 
my  warnings,  and  all  the  instruction  I  have  given 
you,  by  which  you  would  be  sure  to  find  your  way 
to  heaven,  that  you  still  go  to  that  heretic  minister, 
Mr.  Jamieson,  as  you  used  to  do  when  I  before 
warned  you.  Now,  I  tell  you,  widow,  if  you  love 
your  soul,  you  must  go  there  no  more.  I  am  not 
going  to  be  warning  you  for  ever.  Do  you  hear  my 
words  ?  Do  you  intend  to  obey  them  ?  " 

"  Father  O'Rourke,"  said  the  widow,  looking 
calmly  at  him,  "I  have  a  great  respect  for  your 
office,  and  for  the  holy  religion  of  which  you  are  a 
priest;  there  is  nothing  I  have  ever  said  against 
that.  I  am  a  good  Catholic,  as  I  have  always  been, 
and  you  shall  not  be  the  person  to  throw  a  stone  at 
me;  but  if  I  go  to  the  vicarage,  I  go  to  hear  the 
gentle  words  of  that  poor  blind  lady,  and  the 


218  Shore  and  Ocean. 

minister  never  speaks  anything  to  me  but  what  is 
faithful  and  true.  He  is  a  good  man,  Father 
O'Rourke,  and  I  wish  I  was  as  sure  of  going  to 
heaven  as  he  is:  that  is  what  I  have  got  to  tell  you." 

"  Oh,  Widow  O'Neil,  those  are  evil  words  you  are 
speaking!"  exclaimed  the  priest;  "you  are  just 
disobeying  the  holy  mother  Church;  you  are  just 
doing  what  will  bring  you  down  the  road  to  de- 
struction, and  I  tell  you,  I  believe  it  was  your  ob- 
stinacy, and  your  love  for  those  heretics,  that  was 
the  cause  of  the  loss  of  your  son.  He  is  gone,  and 
I  hope  he  is  gone  to  glory,  for  it  is  not  for  the  want 
of  me  saying  masses  for  his  soul,  if  he  has  not;  for 
sure  I  am,  that,  if  he  had  remained  here,  and  lis- 
tened longer  to  the  instruction  of  that  false  heretic, 
he  would  have  gone  the  way  you  are  so  anxious  to 
go,  Widow  O'Neil." 

The  widow  now  stood  up,  throwing  from  her  the 
nets,  which  had  hitherto  been  on  her  knees.  She 
stepped  back  a  pace  or  two,  and  stretched  out  her 
hands. 

"  Father  O'Rourke,"  she  exclaimed,  "it  is  not  the 
truth  you  are  speaking  to  me  !  My  boy  never 
learned  anything  but  what  was  good  when  he  went 
to  the  vicarage:  and  more  than  that,  though  you 
say  he  has  gone  from  this  world,  there  is  something 
deep  down  in  my  heart  which  tells  me  he  is  still 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  219 

alive.  If  he  were  dead,  my  heart  would  feel  very 
different  to  what  it  does  now.  I  tell  you,  Father 
O'Rourke,  I  believe  my  son  is  alive,  and  will  come 
back  some  day  to  see  me.  I  know  he  will.  Do  you 
think  I  doubt  his  love?  Do  I  doubt  my  love  for 
him  ?  No.  Father  O'Rourke,  you  are  a  childless 
man  yourself,  and  you  do  not  know  what  the  love 
of  a  mother  is  for  her  child,  and  I  do  not  think  you 
know  what  the  love  of  a  child  is  for  its  mother — a 
fond,  loving  mother,  as  I  have  been, — not  such  a 
child  as  mine.  The  day  will  come  when  Dermot 
will  stand  here,  as  you  are  standing  here;  but  he 
will  not  be  blaming  his  old  mother  as  you  are  blam- 
ing her.  He  will  come  to  speak  words  of  comfort 
and  consolation  into  my  ear.  Instead  of  that,  Fa- 
ther O'Rourke,  you  have  brought  nothing  but  curs- 
ing. You  tell  me  I  am  in  the  downward  road  to 
destruction.  Is  that  the  way  you  should  speak  to  a 
lone  widow,  because  she  loves  her  son,  and  likes 
those  to  speak  who  knew  him,  and  who  would  talk 
about  him  to  her  and  praise  him,  and  who  tell  her 
what  a  noble,  clever  youth  he  was  ? " 

"  Widow  O'Neil  !  "  exclaimed  Father  O'Rourke, 
an  angry  frown  gathering  on  his  brow,  "year  after 
year  I  have  spoken  to  you  as  I  am  now  speaking.  I 
have  warned  you  before,  I  have  warned  your  boy 
Dermot.  I  tell  you,  he  would  not  take  the  warning, 


22O  Shore  and  Ocean. 

and  he  would  have  suffered  the  consequences  of  his 
disobedience,  but  I  do  care  for  your  soul,  and  it  is 
on  account  of  that  soul  that  I  want  you  to  put  faith 
in  the  holy  mother  Church.  If  you  do,  all  will  be 
right,  but  if  you  go  and  listen  to  the  words  of  that 
Protestant  minister,  all  will  be  wrong,  and  you, 
Widow  O'Neil,  will  have  to  go  and  live  for  ever 
with  the  accursed;  ay,  for  ever  and  ever  in  fire 
and  torment."  With  such  force  and  energy  did 
the  priest  speak,  and  so  fierce  did  he  look,  that  for 
the  moment  he  made  the  poor  old  woman  tremble 
and  turn  pale  with  fear.  She  quickly,  however,  re- 
covered herself. 

"  You  may  go,  Father  O'Rourke,"  she  exclaimed. 
"  Once  I  was  your  slave,  but  I  am  your  slave  no 
longer.  I  am  a  poor  ignorant  woman,  but  I  have 
had  the  truth  told  me,  and  that  truth  has  made  me 
free  of  you;  say  what  you  will,  I  do  not  fear  you." 

The  priest  on  hearing  these  words  positively 
stamped  on  the  ground,  and  gnashed  his  teeth  with 
anger.  He  was  not  one  of  the  polished  fathers  of 
the  Church,  who  have  been  taught  from  their  youth 
to  conceal  their  feelings.  He  was  certainly  not  a 
trained  disciple  of  Ignatius  Loyola.  Again  and 
again  he  stamped,  and .  then  uttering  a  fearful  ana- 
thema on  the  occupant  of  the  hut,  he  turned  round, 
and  slamming  the  door,  left  her  as  he  had  often  be- 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  221 

fore  done,  and  hastened  upwards  towards  the  cliffs. 
While  this  scene  was  enacting  below,  a  young 
naval  officer,  who  had  landed  from  a  boat  which 
had  come  from  the  corvette,  lately  brought  up  in 
the  bay,  had  climbed  to  the  summit  of  the  downs, 
and  was  taking  his  way  across  them  towards  the 
gorge,  up  which  the  priest  was  hastening.  He  had, 
however,  not  got  very  far,  when  he  heard  a  voice 
singing  a  wild  and  plaintive  Irish  air.  He  stopped 
to  listen,  and  as  he  did  so,  a  figure,  dressed  in  fan- 
tastic fashion,  appeared  from  behind  some  broken 
ground  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  downs.  She 
advanced  towards  him,  and  then  suddenly  stopped, 
looking  eagerly  in  his  face. 

"  Who  are  you,  stranger — who  are  you  who  come 
to  these  shores  ?  It  is  not  good  for  you  to  be  alone 
here ;  if  you  come,  come  with  armed  men,  with 
muskets  on  their  shoulders  and  swords  by  their 
sides,  for  that  slight  weapon  that  you  carry  would 
avail  you  nothing  against  the  enemies  you  are  like- 
ly to  meet  here.  Go  back,  I  tell  you,  the  way  you 
came.  I  may  seem  silly  and  mad,  and  mad  and 
silly  I  am,  but  I  can  sing;  few  can  sing  like  me. 
Now  listen,  stranger,  listen  to  my  song."  She  burst 
forth  again  in  the  same  wild  strains  which  at  first 
attracted  the  young  officer's  attention. 

"  But  what  reason  could  you  give  me  why  I  should 


222  Shore  and  Ocean. 

follow  your  advice  ?  I  like  your  song,  however;  can 
you  not  sing  me  another  ? " 

"Yes,"  she  answered,  "Mad  Kathleen  has  many 
a  song  in  her  head,  but  it  does  not  always  come 
when  called  for,  it  is  only  as  the  fit  seizes  her  that 
she  can  bring  it  forth.  Never  mind  listening  to  my 
song,  however,  but  follow  my  advice.  There  is  your 
boat  even  now  out  in  the  bay ;  go,  make  a  signal  to 
it  to  come  back  to  you,  or  evil  Avill  befall  you." 

"  I  can  scarcely  suppose  that,  provided  I  do  not 
leave  the  shore,"  answered  the  officer.  "  I  thank 
you,  however,  for  your  advice,  but  I  do  not  purpose 
wandering  far  from  where  I  now  am." 

"  Even  here  where  you  stand  you  are  not  safe ; 
but  I  have  warned  you  once,  and  I  cannot  warn  you 
more,"  exclaimed  the  mad  woman,  as  with  wild 
gestures  she  retreated  back  to  the  spot  from  which 
she  appeared  to  have  come.  The  young  officer 
watched  her  till  she  disappeared.  A  shade  of  mel- 
ancholy came  over  his  countenance. 

"I  might  have  asked  her  about  some  of  the  peo- 
ple hereabouts,"  he  said  to  himself.  "Her  warning 
perhaps  is  not  to  be  despised;  I  will  sit  down  here, 
and  wait  till  the  boat  returns." 

The  officer  was  approaching  the  edge  of  the  cliff" 
when  Father  O'Rourke  reached  the  downs;  seeing 
the  stranger,  he  advanced  towards  him.  The  tern- 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  223 

per  of  the  priest  had  not  calmed  down,  so  it  seemed, 
since  his  encounter  with  the  poor  widow.  As  he 
approached  the  young  officer,  he  looked  at  him 
earnestly. 

"What  brings  you  here?"  he  exclaimed.  "What 
business  have  armed  men  to  come  upon  our  coasts, 
let  me  ask  you?" 

"Really,  sir,"  said  the  officer,  drawing  himself  up, 
"I  bear  his  Majesty's  commission  as  commander 
of  yonder  sloop  of  war,  and  in  the  performance  of 
my  duty,  I  have  landed  on  the  shores  of  this  bay; 
but  I  do  not  understand  why  I  should  be  thus 
roughly  spoken  to  by  one  especially,  who,  judging 
from  his  appearance,  is  a  Catholic  priest." 

"You  judge  rightly,  young  man,"  answered  Fa- 
ther O'Rourke,  "but  I  am  not  to  be  deceived  by 
appearances,  and  though  you  may  call  yourself  what 
you  will,  I  suspect  you  to  be  either  the  commander 
of  a  privateer,  if  not  rather  of  a  vile  buccanier.  We 
have  had  visits  before  now  from  such  gentry,  and 
I  should  advise  you  to  leave  our  shores  without 
delay." 

"I  cannot  understand  your  meaning,"  exclaimed 
the  officer;  "I  repeat,  I  came  here  in  the  perfor- 
mance of  my  duty,  and  I  little  expected  to  be 
treated  thus  by  the  first  stranger  I  might  meet." 

The  priest  seemed  to  think  that  he  had  proceeded 


224  Shore  and  Ocean. 

too  far;  whatever  might  have  been  his  motive  in 
thus  insulting  one  whom  he  must  have  known  was 
a  naval  officer,  or  for  some  reason,  he  thought  fit 
suddenly  to  change  his  tactics. 

"Pardon  me,  sir,"  he  said  in  a  soothing  voice, 
which  he  well  knew  how  to  assume,  "I  see  that  I 
was  mistaken  in  my  first  supposition,  and  to  prove 
my  sincerity,  I  shall  be  happy  if  I  can  render  to 
you  any  service  in  my  power." 

"I  willingly  accept  your  apologies,"  answered  the 
officer,  regarding  the  priest  intently,  as  if  to  ascer- 
tain whether  he  was  to  be  trusted.  "On  my  way 
along  the  shore,  I  intend  visiting  some  of  the  little 
coves  I  see  to  the  northward  of  these  downs,  and 
now,  sir,  perhaps  you  can  inform  me  whether  I  am 
likely  to  find  any  people  residing  among  them?" 

"  But  few,  if  any,"  answered  the  priest,  "  they 
are  nearly  all  dead  or  gone  away  who  once  lived 
there;  the  curse  of  your  country  has  been  upon 
them.  The  aged  and  the  young,  the  married  and 
the  single,  the  widow  and  her  children,  have  all 
been  swept  away." 

"Yes,  I  have  heard  that  great  changes  have 
taken  place  in  this  neighbourhood  of  late  years," 
answered  the  young  officer,  a  shade  of  melancholy 
crossing  his  countenance.  "  And  now,  sir,  in  spite 
of  the  somewhat  rough  way  in  which  you  first  ad- 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  225 

dressed  me,  I  wish  you  good  morning,  and  thank 
you  for  your  information." 

Father  O'Rourke  had,  all  the  time  he  was  speak- 
ing, been  examining  the  countenance  of  the  young 
officer. 

"  Ah,  to  be  sure,  I  was  somewhat  irritated  by 
a  trifle  just  before  I  met  you,  but  your  politeness 
has  conquered  me,"  he  answered  blandly,  "  and  I 
beg  you,  should  you  come  near  my  humble  abode, 
to  believe  that  I  shall  be  happy  to  receive  you. 
We  poor,  oppressed  Catholics  have  little  to  offer 
our  guests,  but  to  such  as  I  possess  you  will  be 
welcome.  Our  business  is  to  look  after  the  souls 
of  our  parishioners.  If  we  can  but  show  them  the 
right  way  to  heaven  we  should  be  content." 

The  young  officer  seemed  somewhat  inclined  to 
smile  at  these  remarks  of  the  priest. 

"  I  will  not  fail  to  avail  myself  of  your  invita- 
tion," he  answered,  "but  at  present  I  do  not  intend 
to  extend  my  walk  along  the  sea-shore." 

"Well  then,  sir,  as  you  have  wished  me  good 
morning,  I  must  wish  you  the  same,  and  a  pleasant 
walk  to  you,  only  let  me  advise  you  to  be  cau- 
tious where  you  go;  it  isn't  just  the  safest  part  of 
the  country  for  a  king's  officer  to  be  found  wan- 
dering in  by  himself.  However,  sir,  I  have  given 
you  a  friendly  warning,  and  now  again  farewell." 


226  Shore  and  Ocean. 

The  priest,  somewhat  to  the  surprise  of  the  officer, 
considering  the  father's  previous  greeting,  put  out 
his  hand,  which  he  was  too  courteous  not  to  take, 
then  quickly  turning  round,  Father  O'Rourke  pro- 
ceeded up  the  gorge  into  the  country. 

Father  O'Rourke  was  not  accustomed  to  explain 
to  others  the  object  of  his  proceedings.  He  had 
good  reasons  in  his  own  estimation  for  everything 
that  he  did.  They  were  possibly  conscientious, 
but  then  his  conscience  might  have  been  a  very 
erring  guide,  and  led  him  far  wrong,  as  is  the  case 
with  many  other  people  in  the  world. 

"  It  cannot  be  helped,"  said  the  priest  to  himself, 
alluding  to  something  which  was  passing  in  his  own 
mind,  "  but  no  harm  may  come  of  it  to  me  after  all. 
The  boys  were  to  meet  at  O'Keef's  last  night,  and 
there  will  be  plenty  of  them  still  about  there;  they 
will  be  glad  enough  of  the  chance  of  getting  hold 
of  a  king's  officer,  and  if  he  shows  fight  and  some 
one  gives  him  a  knock  on  the  head  or  sends  a  pistol- 
bullet  through  him,  it  will  settle  the  business.  He  is 
certain  to  be  down  in  the  cove,  and  if  the  boys  are 
quick  they  will  catch  him  there.  I  am  pretty  sure 
that  I  am  not  mistaken,  but  at  all  events  he  will  be 
a  valuable  prize  if  he  can  be  got  hold  of  any  way." 

Such  thoughts  occupied  the  mind  of  the  priest  as 
turning  off  from  the  beaten  path  he  took  his  way 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  227 

across  a  mountainous  region  which  still  remained  in 
all  its  primitive  wildness.  After  proceeding  for  some 
distance  at  a  speed  which  was  surprising  considering 
his  age,  he  reached  some  rude  turf-covered  huts, 
scarcely  discernible  from  the  rocks  and  grass  amid 
which  they  stood.  The  priest  gave  a  peculiar  call, 
which  soon  brought  out  a  number  of  shaggy-looking 
heads  and  eager  faces  with  grey  frieze-coats  beneath 
them.  Father  O'Rourke  did  not  take  long  to  explain 
the  object  of  his  visit,  which  was  quickly  compre- 
hended, nor  did  he  wrongly  estimate  the  inclinations 
of  his  hearers,  who  gleefully  undertook  to  carry  out 
the  plan  he  proposed  to  them.  All  things  being  ar- 
ranged to  his  satisfaction  he  returned  to  his  own 
abode,  saying  to  himself,  "  I  warned  him  of  danger, 
so  that  if  he  is  attacked  and  escapes  he  cannot  ac- 
cuse me  of  having  anything  to  do  in  the  matter." 

The  officer  was  about  to  prosecute  his  intention 
of  descending  into  the  cove,  when  he  heard  merry 
voices  near  him.  The  speakers  seemed  to  be  climb- 
ing up  the  cliffs,  and  they  soon  made  their  appear- 
ance on  its  summit.  Touching  their  caps  as  they 
neared  the  officer, — 

"The  boat  has  come  for  you,  sir,"  said  one  of  them. 

"Very  well,"  was  the  answer.  "Go  down  and 
amuse  yourselves  on  the  beach  for  a  short  time  and 
I  will  join  you.  I  am  not  ready  to  go  off  just  yet." 


228  Shore  and  Ocean. 

The  young  midshipmen  receiving  these  orders 
managed  to  get  down  the  cliffs  in  a  way  few  but 
midshipmen  could  have  done  without  breaking  their 
necks. 

"  I  wonder  what  our  captain's  about,"  said  one  of 
them.  "  I  should  have  thought  that  he  would  have 
gone  to  the  Castle.  Lord  Kilfinnan  lives  there,  you 
know;  and  I  remember  hearing  how  constantly  he 
used  to  be  at  his  house  out  in  the  West  Indies.  Did 
you  ever  see  Lady  Nora  ? " 

"No,"  answered  the  other;  "I  do  not  remember 
having  heard  her  spoken  of." 

"Oh  she  is  the  Earl's  daughter,  and  a  very 
beautiful  girl  she  is,  too,"  observed  the  first  speaker. 
"There  is  Lady  Sophy  Danvers,  her  cousin,  too, 
who  lives  with  her.  She  was  engaged  for  a  long 
time  to  that  Captain  Falkner,  you  know,  who  com- 
manded the  Cynthia;  but,  I  suppose  her  relations 
did  not  like  her  to  marry  him  because  he  wasn't 
a  lord,  and  intended  her  for  a  duke  or  a  marquis 
perhaps." 

"I  do  not  see  why  they  should  have  done  that," 
answered  the  other  midshipman.  "In  my  opinion, 
a  naval  officer  is  equal  to  any  lord  in  the  land;  at 
all  events,  a  post-captain  is.  If  I  were  a  post-cap- 
tain, I  know  I  should  not  hesitate  to  pay  my  res- 
pects to  any  earl's  daughter.  Why,  just  think,  to 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  229 

have  a  fine  frigate  and  three  or  four  hundred  men 
under  one's  orders,  and,  by-and-by,  a  line-of-battle 
ship,  and  then  a  post-captain  becomes  an  admiral, 
remember;  and  many  admirals  have  been  made 
lords  themselves.  Why,  there  is  Lord  Nelson;  he 
was  only  a  midshipman  to  begin  with;  and  Lord 
Collingwood,  and  Lord  St.  Vincent,  and  Lord 
Howe,  and  many  others;  they  were  all  midshipmen, 
just  as  you  and  I  are.  Now,  just  look  at  our  captain 
for  instance;  if  any  one  deserves  to  be  made  a  lord 
he  does.  What  a  gallant  fellow  he  is  !  Why,  if  it 
had  not  been  for  him,  they  say,  the  Cynthia  would 
have  heen  taken.  It  was  he  assisted  in  lashing  the 
enemy's  bowsprit  to  the  frigate's  foremast,  and  then 
repelling  the  boarders  who  were  swarming  on  board; 
and  then,  there  are  no  end  of  things  he  did  in  the 
West  Indies,  and  in  other  parts  of  the  world.  He 
has  been  in  half-a-dozen  cutting-out  expeditions, 
and,  since  he  has  been  a  commander,  has  taken 
several  prizes.  Did  you  ever  hear  how,  when  the 
French  frigate  was  sinking,  he  refused  to  leave  her, 
and  stayed  on  board  to  assist  the  captain  in  keep- 
ing her  afloat  at  the  risk  of  his  own  life.  Now,  that 
is  the  sort  of  thing  to  be  proud  of.  I  often  think 
more  of  a  man  who  has  done  those  generous  actions 
than  one  who  has  gained  a  hard-fought  battle. 
However,  what  do  you  say  to  having  a  race  along 


230  Shore  and  Ocean. 

the  sands  ?  Here,  we  will  get  most  of  the  fellows 
on  shore,  and  I  am  ready  to  give  a  prize  to  the  best 
runner." 

"I  will  give  my  pocket-knife,"  said  the  midship- 
man; "that  will  be  an  encouragement  to  the  men. 
They  are  good  sort  of  fellows,  and  I  like  to  afford 
them  amusement.  It  is  little  we  or  they  get  these 
days,  kept  at  sea  month  after  month." 

As  it  may  be  supposed,  the  young  midshipmen 
were  great  favourites  on  board  the  corvette,  and  for 
some  time  they  kept  their  crew  amused  as  they  had 
proposed.  At  length  they  began  to  wonder  that 
the  captain  did  not  appear,  and  they  began  to  fear 
that  some  accident  had  befallen  him.  At  last  they 
proposed  climbing  up  the  cliff  again  to  look  for  him. 
They  reached  the  top  at  last,  and  looked  round  the 
downs  on  every  side;  no  one  was  to  be  seen.  Then 
curiosity  led  them  a  short  distance  inland.  Sud- 
denly, a  figure  which  made  them  start  rose  up  be- 
fore them. 

"Who  are  you  looking  for,  young  sirs?"  ex- 
claimed Mad  Kathleen.  "I  know  without  your 
telling  me.  He  is  gone — gone  away,  and  you  must 
follow  to  find  him;  but  listen,  boys,  I  have  a  mes- 
sage for  him.  Now,  don't  you  fail  to  give  it.  Tell 
him  there  are  enemies  watching  for  him,  and  that  if 
ever  he  comes  on  shore  by  himself  he  will  be  sure 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  231 

to  be  set  upon,  and  all  his  strength  and  courage 
will  avail  him  nothing.  He  is  a  brave  man,  your 
captain,  and  I  wish  him  well." 

"  Why,  how  do  you  know  anything  about  him?" 
asked  one  of  the  midshipmen.  "  I  did  not  know  he 
had  ever  been  here  before." 

"  Mad  Kathleen  knows  more  things  than  you  wot 
of,"  answered  the  mad  woman,  with  a  loud  laugh, 
whirling  her  hands  as  she  spoke.  "  Now,  go  to  the 
Castle  as  I  bid  you,  and  give  him  my  message.  He 
would  run  more  risk  by  neglecting  my  warning  than 
if  he  were  to  fight  a  dozen  battles  for  his  king  and 
country." 

Though  the  midshipmen  were  little  inclined  to 
put  much  belief  in  the  message  of  the  mad  creature, 
they  promised  to  deliver  it  as  soon  as  they  met  their 
captain.  After  consulting  together,  they  agreed 
that  their  proper  course  was  to  row  along  the  bay 
towards  the  castle,  in  the  hopes  that  he  might 
have  gone  there. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

A  S  the  commander  of  the  corvette  was  about  to 
descend  the  glen,  his  attention  was  arrested  by 
the  faint  tramp  of  horses'  hoofs  passing  rapidly  over 
the  downs.  He  turned  his  head  and  at  that  instant 
saw  a  young  lady  on  horseback,  not  far  from  him, 
cantering  gaily  along,  while  at  a  short  distance  be- 
hind her  was  another  lady,  followed  by  a  groom. 
At  that  moment  the  figure  of  the  mad  woman,  which 
had  a  short  time  before  appeared  to  him,  rose  sud- 
denly from  behind  the  ground  where  he  had  last 
seen  her.  She  uttered  a  wild  shriek;  the  effect  was 
to  make  the  leading  horse  start  and  rear  violently. 
The  animal  apparently,  was  not  well  broken  in. 
Again  and  again  it  reared,  backing  down  towards 
the  edge  of  the  cliff.  The  young  officer  saw  the 
lady's  danger,  and  in  an  instant  sprang  towards  her. 
She  uttered  a  shriek  as  she  discovered  how  fearfully 
near  the  edge  of  the  cliff  her  horse  had  carried  her. 
The  officer  grasped  her  bridle,  but  in  vain  tried  to 
<.  draw  back  the  frightened  animal.  It  seemed  re- 


DEXHAM   SAVES  XORA. 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  233 

solved  to  throw  itself  over  the  precipice.  In  an- 
other moment  the  lady  and  her  steed  would  have 
been  carried  to  destruction. 

"  Throw  yourself  from  your  saddle,  and  trust  to 
me,"  exclaimed  the  young  officer  imploringly. 

She  cast  herself  forward  and  fell  into  his  arms. 
Alas  !  her  habit  caught  in  the  stirrup.  Again  the 
horse  reared. 

"I  will  perish  with  her,"  exclaimed  the  young 
man  mentally. 

Happily,  the  skirt  tore,  and  in  another  moment 
was  disengaged;  while  the  frightened  animal,  with 
one  bound,  leaped  over  the  cliff.  So  extreme  was 
the  danger  to  which  the  young  lady  had  been 
exposed,  that  scarcely  knowing  she  had  escaped  it, 
she  fainted.  The  young  officer,  with  his  precious 
burden,  hurried  up  the  downs,  when  her  companion, 
jumping  from  her  horse,  came  to  his  assistance. 

"  O  Nora,  Nora,"  she  exclaimed,  "  do  tell  me  that 
you  are  alive  !  O  that  we  had  some  water  to  give 
her,  such  a  faint  as  this  is  dangerous.  What  can 
be  done  ? " 

The  groom  observing  that  there  was  a  stream  a 
few  hundred  yards  on,  dashed  forward  on  his  horse, 
and  quickly  returned  with  his  hat  full. 

Lady  Sophy,  loosening  Nora's  dress  round  her 
neck,  and  holding  her  head  on  her  knee,  sprinkled 


234  Shore  and  Ocean. 

the  water  over  her  face,  which  was  turned  in  the 
direction  of  the  wind.  By  this  means  she  quickly 
returned  to  consciousness,  and,  opening  her  eyes, 
they  fell  on  the  countenance  of  the  young  officer. 

"  Oh,  Captain  Denham,"  she  exclaimed,  "  I  owe 
my  life  to  you.  In  another  moment  I  should  have 
been  dashed  to  pieces.  I  thought  that  I  had  gone 
over  the  precipice.  How  grateful  my  dear  father 
will  be  to  you  !  " 

"Then  that  must  be  your  ship,"  said  Lady  Sophy, 
pointing  to  the  corvette.  "You  must  come  with 
us  at  once  to  the  castle." 

Captain  Denham,  of  course,  could  only  express 
his  very  great  satisfaction  at  having  been  the  means 
of  preserving  the  life  of  Lady  Nora,  though  he  could 
claim  no  credit  for  having  done  so.  Whatever  had 
been  his  previous  intentions,  he  could  do  nothing 
else  than  accompany  the  ladies  till  he  had  seen 
them  safe  at  the  castle.  He  made  anxious  in- 
quiries after  the  Earl,  and  found,  from  the  account 
they  gave  him,  that  he  was  greatly  broken  in 
health,  not  having  recovered  from  the  effects  of 
the  West  Indian  climate,  or  the  loss  of  his  son.  In 
many  respects  the  meeting  could  not  fail  to  be  a 
sad  one.  The  sight  of  Captain  Denham  recalled 
painfully  to  Lady  Sophy  the  death  of  her  intended 
husband,  while  Lady  Nora,  naturally,  could  not 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  235 

help  thinking  of  her  young  brother,  who  had  been 
Captain  Denham's  friend. 

The  distance  to  the  castle  was  considerable,  but 
Lady  Nora  declared  her  inability  to  mount  a  horse, 
even  if  one  had  been  sent  for;  nor  would  she  con- 
sent to  take  that  of  Lady  Sophy.  Supported,  how- 
ever, by  the  arm  of  the  captain,  she  proceeded  to- 
wards home.  They  had  many  things  to  talk  about. 
Captain  Denham  had  to  describe  how  he  had  been 
sent  to  the  coast  of  Ireland  to  render  assistance  to 
any  of  the  loyal  subjects  of  the  king  who  might 
require  it,  whilst  the  ladies  described  their  passage 
home,  and  the  feelings  with  which  they  had  re- 
turned once  more  to  the  old  castle. 

"Things  are  greatly  changed,"  observed  Lady 
Nora,  "  we  have  none  of  the  gay  society  we  used 
to  have  here;  my  father  also  is  too  much  out  of 
spirits  to  see  company.  Occasionally  a  few  neigh- 
bours look  in  upon  us;  or  when  any  ship  comes  into 
the  bay  we  see  some  of  the  officers,  and  Mr.  Jamie- 
son  and  dear  Miss  O'Reilly  come  over  to  pay  us  a 
visit;  but  you,  Captain  Denham,  will  always  be 
welcome." 

Captain  Denham  and  his  fair  companions  had  ar- 
rived at  the  castle  some  time  before  the  midship- 
men with  the  boat  appeared,  having  been  joined  in 
the  meantime  by  the  second  lieutenant. 


236  Shore  and  Ocean. 

The  Earl  welcomed  him  warmly,  and  begged  him 
to  take  up  his  residence  at  the  castle ;  but  this  in- 
vitation he  was  compelled  to  decline,  as  he  made  it 
a  point  of  duty  never  to  sleep  away  from  the  ship  at 
night. 

Lady  Nora  had  sufficiently  recovered  to  appear 
at  dinner,  to  which  Denham's  officers,  who  had 
come  on  shore,  were  also  invited.  Just  before  din- 
ner Mr.  Jamieson  and  his  blind  niece  arrived.  Lady 
Nora  was  delighted  to  see  them,  and  introduced 
Captain  Denham  to  them  both.  The  blind  lady 
'seemed  to  take  especial  interest  in  him.  She  plied 
him  with  questions,  asking  him  what -part  of  the 
world  he  had  visited,  in  what  ship  he  had  served, 
and  in  what  actions  he  had  been  engaged. 

The  Earl  had  broken  through  the  usual  custom 
of  sitting  late  at  dinner ;  indeed  the  gentlemen  pre- 
sent seemed  in  no  way  disposed  to  follow  it.  Soon 
after  the  ladies  had  retired,  Mr.  Jamieson  and  Cap- 
tain Denham  led  the  way  to  the  drawing-room. 
Captain  Denham  approached  Lady  Nora  and  in- 
quired anxiously  if  she  felt  perfectly  recovered  from 
the  effects  of  her  alarming  accident. 

"  Oh,  yes ;  indeed  I  am,"  she  answered,  glancing 
up  at  him  with  a  look  which  might  have  made 
many  men  vain.  "  I  dare  not  trust  myself  to  thank 
you  as  I  ought,  or  to  speak  about  it.  I  cannot  help 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  237 

thinking  of  what  would  have  been  my  fate  had  you 
not  been  there  to  save  me.  How  often  have  I 
crossed  those  downs  without  dreaming  of  danger ; 
and  indeed  it  was  very  curious  how  that  poor  mad 
woman  should  have  startled  my  horse.  I  have  met 
her  often  before,  and  she  has  done  much  the  same 
sort  of  thing ;  but  the  poor  animal  was  young,  and 
had  not  been  ridden  for  some  days.  Sophy  and  I 
were  on  our  way  to  visit  some  of  the  poor  -people 
we  are  accustomed  to  call  upon,  and  I  was  anxious 
to  see  an  old  widow  who  lives  in  a  little  cove  under 
where  you  saw  me ;  but  that  can  be  a  matter  of  no 
interest  to  you." 

As  she  spoke  she  again  gazed  up  in  his  face. 
Something  strange  seemed  to  flash  across  her  mind. 
She  cast  another  earnest,  inquiring  look  at  him. 
The  colour  mounted  to  his  cheek.  His  eyes  fell, 
then  again  he  looked  earnestly  at  her.  Nora's 
breath  came  and  went  rapidly ;  her  bosom  heaved. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  Nora?"  exclaimed 
Lady  Sophy,  springing  forward,  "she  is  fainting. 
Help!  help!" 

In  an  instant  Lady  Sophy  was  by  Nora's  side,  and 
just  in  time  to  receive  her  as  she  fell  fainting  into 
her  arms.  Captain  Denham  stood  for  an  instant  so 
overwhelmed  with  some  deep  emotion,  as  scarcely 
to  comprehend  what  had  occurred. 


238  Shore  and  Ocean. 

The  bell  was  rung,  and  -several  attendants  rushed 
in,  and  Nora  was  borne  fainting  from  the  room. 

It  was  still  daylight,  but  just  at  this  moment  dark 
clouds  began  to  collect  in  the  sky,  casting  a  gloom 
over  the  landscape.  The  lieutenant  of  the  corvette 
had  gone  to  the  window  looking^out  ove'r  the  ocean. 
He  hurriedly  came  back,  and  while  his  commander 
was  standing  still  bewildered  it  seemed  by  what  had 
occurred,  he  came  up  to  him,  and  said, — "  Sir,  there 
is  a  change  in  the  weather.  The  wind  has  increased 
considerably,  and  the  bay  in  a  short  time  will  be  no 
place  for  us."  This  address  aroused  Captain  Denham. 

"  You  are  right,  Matson,"  he  answered,  looking 
out  at  the  window  for  an  instant,  "I  will  go  on 
board  immediately.  We  must  bid  farewell  to  the 
Earl  and  be  off.  There  is  not  a  moment  to  lose, 
and  I  hope  Evans  will  get  the  ship  under  weigli 
without  waiting  for  me." 

Just  as  he  was  quitting  the  room  Lady  Sophy  re- 
entered  it,  and  assured  him  that  Lady  Nora  had 
quickly  recovered,  though  still  unnerved  by  the 
danger  she  had  gone  through.  "  I  trust  that  she 
will  have  perfectly  recovered  by  to-morrow,"  she 
added.  "  And,  believe  me,  Captain  Denham,  you 
will  always  be  a  welcome  guest  at  the  castle." 

She  spoke  earnestly,  her  looks  giving  expression 
to  her  words. 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  239 

"She  is  a  dear,  high-minded  girl,  and,  believe  me, 
I  prize  her,  and  will  watch  over  her  as  a  sister,  or  I 
should  say  rather,  as  a  daughter." 

"  Thank  you,  thank  you,"  answered  the  young 
captain,  pressing  Lady  Sophy's  hand;  "you  know 
my  feelings  for  your  cousin,  but  to  no  one  else  would 
I  venture  to  acknowledge  them.  To  her  I  feel  that 
I  have  no  right  to  speak  of  them.  I  leave  myself, 
therefore,  in  your  hands." 

"  I  trust  to  be  so  guided  as  to  act  for  the  best  for 
you  both,"  said  Lady  Sophy,  "but  I  must  not  longer 
detain  you.  I  hope  that  we  may  see  you  here  again 
before  many  days  have  passed." 

Well  satisfied,  as  he  had  reason  to  be,  with  what 
Lady  Sophy  had  said,  Captain  Denham  followed  his 
officers,  who  had  already  preceded  him  to. the  boats. 
He  stepped  in,  and  the  order  was  given  to  shove  off. 
The  boats  made  the  best  of  their  way  towards  the 
corvette.  The  wind  was  already  blowing  strongly, 
and  a  heavy  sea  rolled  into  the  bay. 

"  It  is  as  much  as  we  shall  do,  if  we  manage  to  beat 
out  of  the  bay  this  evening,"  observed  the  lieuten- 
ant to  the  midshipman  in  his  boat,  "  I  ought  to  have 
kept  my  eyes  more  about  me,  though  it  is  natural 
enough  the  captain's  should  have  been  preoccupied." 

"Yes,  sir,  indeed  that  is  a  lovely  girl,  Lady 
Nora;  he  will  be  a  happy  man  who  wins  her." 


240  Shore  and  Ocean. 

"  That  is  a  matter,  Mr.  Merton,  too  delicate  for 
me  to  pronounce  on,"  answered  the  lieutenant; 
"  but  I  was  speaking  of  the  difficulty  of  beating  out 
of  the  bay." 

"  Oh  yes,  sir,  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  the  mid- 
shipman; "still  I  believe  we  shall  be  able  to  carry 
all  sail,  and  if  so,  the  Ariadne  will  soon  find  her 
way  out  of  this  difficulty." 

"That  is  an  ugly  reef  to  the  north,"  observed 
the  lieutenant;  "I  would  rather  it  were  fifty  miles 
away  than  where  it  is." 

"  Yet  it  affords  us  good  shelter  when  the  wind 
is  as  it  was  this  morning." 

"So  it  does,"  answered  the  lieutenant;  "but  it 
is  directly  in  our  way  when  we  have  to  beat  out 
when  the  wind  is  in  the  west." 

The  captain  made  no  remark  to  the  midship- 
man in  his  boat;  he  was  too  completely  absorbed 
in  his  own  thoughts,  though  he  occasionally  urged 
his  crew  to  greater  exertion  by  the  usual  excla- 
mation of  "  Give  way,  lads,  give  way." 

The  boats  were  soon  alongside.  Directly  they 
were  seen  coming,  the  officer  in  command  had  be- 
gun to  get  the  corvette  under  weigh,  and  when 
the  captain  stepped  on  board  the  anchor  was  hove 
up  to  the  bows. 

The   corvette,  under   top-sails   and   top-gallant- 


The  Heir  of  Kit 'finnan.  241 

sails,  was  now  hauled  close  to  the  wind.  She  cast 
to  the  north,  and  stood  directly  towards  the  reef 
of  rocks  which  appeared  ahead.  The  captain  took 
his  place  in  the  weather  rigging,  to  con  her,  while 
scarcely  had  sail  been  made  on  the  ship  before 
the  increase  of  wind  made  it  doubtful  whether  she 
would  carry  what  was  already  set.  The  dark  clouds 
came  rolling  up  in  thick  masses  from  the  west  over- 
head, while  heavy  seas,  topped  with  foaming  crests, 
rolled  in  from  the  same  direction.  The  corvette 
heeled  over  until  her  lee  ports  were  in  the  water, 
still  it  was  not  a  moment  for  shortening  sail.  Now 
the  young  commander  gazed  at  the  shore  under 
his  lee,  now  to  the  dark  rocks  ahead,  and  now  at 
his  masts  and  spars.  "  No  higher,"  he  had  more 
than  once  to  cry  out,  as  the  men  at  the  helm, 
anxious  to  gain  every  advantage,  kept  her  too 
close  to  the  wind.  "We  cannot  hope  to  weather 
the  reef  on  this  tack,"  he  observed  to  the  lieuten- 
ant, who  was  near  him. 

The  crew  were  all  at  their  stations,  attentive  to 
obey  the  least  sign  from  their  commander.  Now  a 
fiercer  gust  than  ordinary  made  the  ship  heel  lower 
in  the  water.  Now  she  rose  again.  It  was  a  crit- 
ical moment  as  she  rushed  forward  with  headlong 
speed  towards  the  threatening  reef,  over  which  the 
sea  was  always  furiously  beating.  Still  the  young 
16 


242  Shore  and  Ocean. 

commander  stood  calm  and  collected.  Now  his  hand 
was  raised  and  as  he  glanced  towards  the  helms- 
man, now  he  looked  once  more  to  the  sails  aloft. 
"  Hands  about  ship,"  he  shouted  in  a  clear,  ringing 
voice,  which  every  man  heard  fore  and  aft.  "  Helm's 
a-lee  !  Tacks  and  sheets !  Main  sail  haul ! "  It 
seemed  as  if  in  another  moment  the  beautiful  vessel 
would  spring  forward  upon  the  threatening  rocks. 
She  was  in  stays,  but  the  slightest  shift  of  wind  to 
the  south  would  have  driven  her  to  destruction. 
Anxiously  the  commander  looked  at  the  fore-top- 
sail still  aback.  For  an  instant  the  ship's  head  ap- 
peared not  to  be  moving.  Then  gradually  the  wind 
forced  her  round.  "  Of  all  haul !  "  he  shouted  in  a 
cheerful  voice,  as  she  sprang  forward  towards  the 
opposite  side  of  the  bay.  Still  she  was  not  ffee. 
The  headway  she  made  was  counteracted  by  the 
heavy  seas  which  now  rolled  in  upon  the  land,  and 
forced  her  towards  it.  Now  she  was  standing  tow- 
ards Kilfinnan  Castle.  The  commander  turning, 
looked  at  the  reef  they  had  left;  then  once  more 
casting  his  gaze  ahead, — "We  shall  scarcely  weath- 
er it  the  next  tack,"  he  said  to  himself.  "If  the 
wind  holds  as  it  does  now,  however,  and  if  it  does 
not  increase  much,  the  tight  little  ship  will  still 
work  her  way  through  it." 

Anxiously  those  in  the  castle  watched  the  prog- 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  243 

ress  of  the  corvette.  They  well  knew  the  danger 
to  which  she  was  exposed,  for  although  many  a 
year  had  passed  since  any  large  ship  had  been  cast 
away  in  their  bay,  yet  there  were  traditions  of  men- 
of-war  being  driven  on  the  coast  and  the  whole  of 
their  gallant  crews  perishing.  Numerous  merchant 
vessels  and  smaller  craft  had  also  from  time  to  time 
been  dashed  to  pieces  on  the  rocks,  and  many  sad 
tales  there  were  of  lives  being  lost,  when  the  per- 
sons, on  board  the  vessels  appeared  within  but  a 
short  distance  of  the  shore. 

Nora  had  sufficiently  recovered  to  go  to  the 
window  and  gaze  forth  upon  the  vessel. 

"O,  what  a  beautiful  fabric  she  is,"  she  exclaimed; 
"how  rapidly  she  draws  near!"  With  the  glass 
she  could  almost  see  those  on  board.  "But  will 
she,  do  you  think,  escape  that  reef  to  the  north, 
when  she  once  more  tacks?" 

"Oh,  yes,  I  trust  so,"  answered  Lady  Sophy,  "he 
who  commands  on  board  is  an  experienced  seaman, 
you  know,  and  if  any  human  being  could  carry  the 
ship  out  of  the  bay,  he  will  do  so." 

Besides  the  young  ladies,  several  other  persons  on 
shore  were  watching  the  progress  of  the  corvette, 
as  she  endeavoured  to  beat  out  of  the  bay.  Far 
down  below  in  the  sheltered  cove,  in  front  of  her 
cottage,  stood  Widow  O'Neil.  Her  white  locks, 


244  Shore  and  Ocean. . 

escaping  from  the  band  which  generally  bound 
them,  streamed  in  the  wind.  The  hood  of  her  red 
cloak  was  thrown  back,  and  while  with  one  hand 
she  steadied  herself  by  one  of  the  supports  of  the 
deep  eaves  of  the  cottage,  she  stretched  forth 
the  other  towards  the  ocean,  as  if  she  would  direct 
the  course  of  the  bark  which  struggled  through  the 
foaming  waves. 

"They  are  brave  men  on  board  that  craft,"  she 
exclaimed  to  herself,  "but  oh,  it  is  hard  work  they 
will  have,  to  get  clear  of  the  bay.  Proud  and  trim 
as  that  beautiful  ship  looked  this  morning,  who  can 
say  but  what  before  another  sun  rises,  she  will  be  a 
shattered  wreck  upon  yonder  cruel  rocks.  Such  a 
sight  I  have  seen  night  after  night  as  I  lay  on  my 
couch,  I  know  not  whether  asleep  or  awake;  but, 
oh,  may  Heaven  protect  those  on  board  from  such  a 
fate,  if  their  vessel,  stout  as  she  may  be,  is  thrown 
upori  yonder  reef. 

*"My  boy,  my  boy  !  Even  now  he  may  be  on  the 
stormy  ocean,  threatened  with  shipwreck,  as  are 
those  in  yonder  beautiful  vessel.  May  Heaven  pro- 
tect him  and  them  !  " 

As  she  spoke,  the  fish-wife  stretched  forth  her  neck 
more  eagerly  over  the  ocean,  and  again  and  again 
she  offered  up  a  prayer  for  the  safety  of  those  on 
board  the  ship  which  struggled  below  her.  High 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  245 

up  the  glen,  in  a  sheltered  place,  yet  still  command- 
ing a  view  of  the  bay,  sat  another  person.  It  was 
Father  O'Rourke.  He,  too,  was  watching  the  ship, 
with  a  very  different  feeling  animating  his  heart,  to 
that  which  worked  in  the  bosom  of  the  widow.  No 
prayer  for  the  safety  of  those  on  board  escaped  his 
lips.  He  seemed  to  gaze  with  satisfaction  on  the 
fearful  danger  to  which  she  was  exposed.  He  more 
than  once  exclaimed  to  himself,  "  She  cannot  es- 
cape yonder  rocks,  and  then  that  pert  and  daring 
youth  who  set  me  at  defiance,  with  all  his  compan- 
ions, will  meet  the  fate  which  they  and  their  Saxon 
countrymen  so  well  merit.  Curses  on  the  heads  of 
those  who  execute  the  behests  of  King  George  and 
his  ministers.  While  we  have  red-coats  and  blue- 
jackets arrayed  against  us,  what  hope  is  there  of 
liberty  for  old  Ireland  ?  I  hate  them  all.  From  the 
king  on  his  throne  to  the  meanest  soldier  who  trails 
a  pike  in  his  service  ! " 

At  a  short  distance,  on  a  high  and  projecting  part 
of  the  cliff,  stood  a  wild  and  fantastic  figure.  It 
was  that  of  mad  Kathleen.  She  waved  her  arms 
round  and  round.  Now  she  shouted,  as  if  she  would 
warn  those  on  board  the  ship  of  the  danger  they 
were  approaching.  Again  and  again  she  cried  out, 
as  if  encouraging  them  to  perseverance  in  their  bold 
attempt  at  beating  out  of  the  bay.  Sometimes  she 


246  Shore  and  Ocean. 

uttered  blessings  on  their  heads,  especially  that  of 
their  young  commander. 

"A  brave  youth,  a  noble  youth  he  is,"  she  ex- 
claimed; "  even  when  I  set  eyes  on  him  this  morning 
I  felt  my  heart  drawn  towards  him.  Grievous  would 
it  be  for  him  to  lose  that  fine  ship,  his  first  com- 
mand, and  still  more  grievous  were  his  life  to  be 
taken  by  the  angry  waves  ! " 

Thus  she  continued  for  some  time,  until  she  was 
interrupted  by  a  hand  being  placed  on  her  shoulder. 
She  turned  round  and  saw  Miss  O'Reilly  standing 
near  her. 

"  What,  Kathleen,  are  you  trying  to  show  yonder 
ship  the  way  to  beat  out  of  our  bay  ? "  asked  Mr. 
Jamieson,  in  his  usual  kind  voice. 

"  I  would  I  were  on  board,  minister,  that  I  might 
help  to  guide  them,"  she  answered  with  a  laugh. 
"  There  are  many  worse  pilots  than  I  am,  and  often 
in  girlhood's  days  have  I  sailed  with  my  father  on 
yonder  sea,  sometimes,  as  now,  tossed  with  waves, 
at  other  times  calm  and  blue,  like  a  young  maiden's 
eye,  void  of  guile  and  treachery." 

"  But,  tell,  me  Kathleen,  do  you  think  the  ship 
will  manage  to  escape  from  the  dangers  by  which 
she  is  surrounded  ? "  asked  Miss  O'Reilly,  in  a 
somewhat  agitated  voice.  "  They  say  her  captain 
is  a  brave  and  gallant  officer,  and  it  would  be 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  247 

grievous  if  he  were  to  lose  that  beautiful  vessel,  for 
so  I  am  told  she  is." 

"  God  who  guides  the  winds  and  gives  them  power 
alone  knows  whether  yonder  ship  will  gain  the  open 
sea  in  safety,"  answered  Kathleen;  "but  I  will  tell 
you,  dear  lady,  if  you  stay  by  me,  what  progress 
she  makes.  If  the  prayer  of  a  poor  mad  creature 
can  save  her,  she  is  safe  enough,  and  the  wind  will 
hold  as  it  does  now,  sufficiently  to  the  south  to 
enable  her  to  clear  the  reef.  Oh,  Miss  O'Reilly, 
even  now  she  seems  rushing  forward  to  destruc- 
tion." 

"  Whereabouts  is  she  ? "  asked  Miss  O'Reilly 
eagerly. 

"  Not  two  hundred  fathoms,  it  seems  at  this  mo- 
ment from  the  reef,"  answered  Kathleen.  "If  she 
can  come  about  without  difficulty,  she  will  escape, 
but  if  not,  in  a  few  minutes  she  will  be  cast  on 
the  rocks,  and  then  you  know  too  well  what  will 
happen." 

"Tell  me,  good  Kathleen,  tell  me,"  said  the  blind 
lady,  after  a  short  silence,  "has  she  gone  about  ?  is 
there  once  more  a  prospect  of  her  escaping  ? " 

"Again  she  is  in  stays!"  exclaimed  Kathleen. 
"  See,  see  !  the  wind  seems  to  have  caught  her. 
Oh,  may  merciful  Providence  watch  over  her!  It 
seems  to  me  that  her  head  is  once  more  turning 


248  Shore  and  Ocean. 

towards  the  dreadful  rocks.  Alas,  alas!  no  power 
can  save  her." 

"  Oh,  may  Heaven  protect  them  !  "  exclaimed  the 
blind  lady,  turning  her  sightless  eyes  in  the  direction 
of  the  ship.  "  Oh,  may  those  brave  men  on  board  es- 
cape the  fearful  danger  in  which  they  are  placed ! " 

"Your  prayers  are  heard,  lady  !  your  prayers  are 
heard  !"  shouted  Kathleen;  "the  wind  has  taken  her 
head-sails,  and  once  more  she  is  on  the  starboard 
tack,  standing  away  from  that  fearful  reef." 

Mr.  Jamieson  and  his  niece  stood  for  some  time 
watching  the  progress  of  the  corvette,  till  the  shades 
of  evening,  increased  by  the  thick  clouds  which  ob- 
scured the  sky,  hid  her  from  their  sight;  but  they 
could  not  persuade  Kathleen  to  leave  the  spot,  for 
she  declared  that  she  could  still  see  the  ship  through 
the  mist.  At  length,  the  minister  and  his  niece  re- 
turned to  their  home,  leaving  poor  Kathleen  still 
wildly  waving  her  arms  and  shouting,  until  her  voice 
was  hoarse,  as  if  she  would  address  those  on  board 
the  vessel. 

"  See,  see  !  she  is  once  more  about  !  Surely  her 
bowsprit  is  pointing  more  seaward  than  it  was  before, 
and  if  the  wind  was  to  shift  a  little  more  to  the  south, 
she  would  soon  be  clear  of  yonder  fearful  reef." 

The  corvette  once  more  going  about,  stood  to  the 
north.  Although  the  wind  might  have  drawn  a  little 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  249 

more  to  the  south,  yet  this  advantage  was  counter- 
acted by  the  fierceness  with  which  it  blew.  The 
masts,  with  more  sail  on  them  than  it  would  have, 
under  other  circumstances,  been  deemed  prudent  to 
set,  bent  with  the  unusual  pressure.  Sometimes, 
indeed,  as  Captain  Denham  gazed  up  at  them,  they 
seemed  like  fishing-rods,  so  fearfully  did  they  bend 
before  the  breeze.  The  first  lieutenant  and  master 
were  also  looking  up  at  them  with  not  less  anxiety 
than  did  the  captain.  "They  will  scarcely  stand 
this  pressure,"  observed  the  former;  "what  say  you, 
master  ?  " 

"We  must  keep  the  canvas  set,  at  all  events,  and 
trust  to  Providence,"  answered  the  master.  "  This 
is  no  moment  for  taking  in  a  reef.  If  they  go  and 
the  ship  refuses  to  stay,  we  must  bring  up,  though 
I  fear  the  little  vessel  will  scarcely  hold  her  own 
against  the  heavy  seas  which  come  rolling  into  this 
bay;  and,  to  my  idea,  both  she,  and  some  of  us  on 
board,  will  leave  our  bones  to  rot  on  the  strand 
under  our  lee,  if  it  comes  to  that." 

"Let's  hope  for  the  best,  master,"  answered  the 
first  lieutenant.  "See  how  calm  our  captain  looks. 
You  would  never  suppose  that  he  is  aware  of  the 
danger  in  which  we  are  placed." 

"  He  knows  it  pretty  clearly,  though,"  observed 
the  master.  "Hold  on,  good  sticks,  hold  on,"  he 


250  Shore  and  Ocean. 

exclaimed,  looking  up  at  the  masts.  "They  are 
tough  spars,  I  know,  and  they  are  now  giving  good 
proof  of  their  quality." 

Sometimes,  from  the  direction  of  the  vessel's  head, 
it  appeared  possible  that  she  might  weather  the 
reef  towards  which  she  was  approaching.  Then, 
again,  she  fell  off,  and  it  was  evident  that  she  must 
make  another  tack  before  there  was  a  chance  of  her 
doing  so.  The  commander  seemed  of  this  opinion, 
and  was  clearly  unwilling  to  approach  again  as  near 
as  before  to  the  reef.  Again  he  shouted,  "  Hands 
about  ship!"  As  before,  the  helm  was  put  down, 
the  tacks  and  sheets  were  raised,  the  men  hauled 
with  a  will  at  the  braces,  and  the  ship's  head,  com- 
ing up  to  the  wind,  continued  for  some  moments 
pointing  west,  to  the  open  part  of  the  bay.  Anx- 
iously the  commander  watched  her  movements.  At 
one  time  it  seemed  as  if  she  had  got  stern  way,  and 
he  opened  his  mouth  about  to  give  the  order  to  let 
go  the  anchor  and  to  shorten  sail.  Those  on  board 
knew  the  order  would  have  been  followed  by  an- 
other, dreaded  by  all  seamen — to  cut  away  the 
masts,  the  only  mode  of  proceeding  to  enable  the 
corvette  to  ride  out  the  gale.  Again  and  again  the 
captain  looked  up  at  the  head-sails.  "She  is  pay- 
ing off!"  he  exclaimed.  A  shout,  though  immedi- 
ately suppressed,  burst  from  the  throats  of  the  crew. 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  251 

For  the  moment  they  were  safe,  from  the'  threat- 
ened danger.  Again  the  corvette  stood  across  the 
bay.  The  topmasts,  as  before,  bent  to  the  gale. 

"We  shall  easily  clear  that  reef,"  observed  the 
master.  "Well,  it  is  a  pleasure  to  see  a  man  con 
a  ship  as  our  fine  young  skipper  does.  These  are 
moments  to  try  a  man's  mettle,  and  he  has  shown 
that  he  is  of  the  true  sort." 

The  corvette  flew  across  the  bay,  almost,  it 
seemed,  with  lightning  speed,  so  soon  was  she 
again  on  the  opposite  side.  Another  critical  mo- 
ment had  arrived,  and  it  was  only  to  be  hoped  that 
the  gale  would  not  come  down  with  greater  force 
than  before  while  she  was  in  stays,  or  very  likely  at 
that  moment  her  topmasts  would  be  carried  away. 
Again  about  she  came ;  this  time  without  difficulty, 
and  now  her  head  pointing  seaward,  she  stood  out 
from  the  bay,  still  as  those  on  shore  watched  her 
through  the  fast  gathering  gloom  of  evening,  she 
seemed  to  be  drawing  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  reef. 
Now  once  more  she  looked  up  to  the  west,  then 
again  to  the  north ;  still  the  masts  and  spars  stood. 
Yet,  after  all,  she  was  nearer  the  reef  than  under 
such  circumstances  a  seaman  would  wish  to  find  his 
ship. 

"Mr.  Matson,"  said  the  commander,  looking  down 
at  his  first  lieutenant,  "  we  must  at  once  take  two 


252  Shore  and  Ocean. 

reefs  in  the  topsails ;  but  it  is  a  risk  for  the  hands 
aloft,  a  fearful  risk  indeed,"  he  added. 

"I  am  ready  to  lead  the  way,  sir,"  exclaimed  a 
young  seaman,  who  was  no  other  than  Ned  Davis, 
the  commander's  old  companion. 

"  Give  the  orders  then,  Matson,"  said  the  captain. 

"  Aloft,  there,"  shouted  the  first  lieutenant,  scarce- 
ly, however,  had  the  men  sprang  into  the  rigging, 
when  there  was  a  loud  crash.  The  main  topmast 
had  gone  close  to  the  cap.  The  straggling  sail  and 
wreck  of  the  spars  hanging  over  the  side. 

"  Clear  away  the  wreck,"  cried  the  captain.  "  Not 
a  moment  to  be  lost.  We  must  save  the  other 
masts." 

The  men  flew  aloft,  Ned  Davis  being  among  the 
first,  drawing  out  their  knives  from  their  pockets  as 
they  did  so.  In  a  few  seconds  the  ropes  were 
severed,  and  the  mast  and  spar  fell  overboard,  with 
the  still  loudly  flapping  sail.  At  the  same  moment 
the  crew  throwing  themselves  out  on  the  fore  top- 
sail-yard, that  sail  was  quickly  reefed.  "  You  must 
take  another  reef  in  it,  Mr.  Matson,"  said  the  com- 
mander, "  closely  reef  it,  or  that  mast  will  go  also." 
The  mizen-topsail  with  greater  ease  was  closely 
reefed.  In  consequence  of  the  ship  having  been  de- 
prived even  for  that  short  time  of  the  power  which 
urged  her  through  the  seas,  she  had  drifted  down, 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  253 

it  seemed,  close  upon  the  reef.     Once  more  the  cap- 
tain looked  anxiously  to  leeward. 

"  We  shall  still  weather  the  reef,"  he  exclaimed 
to  the  first  lieutenant,  who,  after  gazing  at  it,  looked 
in  his  face. as  if  to  ask  a  question,  "Unless,"  the 
commander  added,  "  the  wind  draws  more  out  of 
the  west." 

Heeling  over,  however,  less  than  she  had  before 
done  to  the  blast,  her  head  pointed  seaward,  clear 
of  the  reef,  still,  should  she  -be  making  much  lee- 
way, it  would  be  doubtful  whether,  after  all,  she 
would  clear  it.  To  tack  close  to  it,  crippled  as 
she  was,  would  be  dangerous  in  the  extreme.  The 
commander  stood,  as  before,  at  his  post. 

"She  will  do  it,  Matson,"  he  said,  speaking  to 
his  first  lieutenant. 

"  God  grant  she  may,"  answered  the  officer. 

On  she  flew.  The  sea  dashed  in  masses  of  foam 
high  above  the  dark  rocks  which  formed  the  ex- 
tremity of  the  reef.  On,  on,  she  stood.  A  few 
seconds  almost  would  decide  her  fate.  Many  an 
eye  glanced  over  the  lee-bulwarks.  The  water 
washed  up  through  the  scuppers,  and  rose  high 
on  deck.  The  crew  sheltered  themselves  as  best 
they  could  under  the  weather-bulwarks,  for  the 
seas  were  breaking  in  masses  of  foam  over  the 
weather-bows,  deluging  the  decks  fore  and  aft. 


254  Shore  and  Ocean. 

The  commander  gazed  also  anxiously  at  the  reef. 
The  corvette  darted  on.  Already  the  foam  which 
flew  over  her  seemed  to  unite  with  that  which  broke 
above  the  rocks.  Still,  he  did  not  turn  pale,  nor 
did  his  eye  quiver.  In  another  instant  she  would 
be  hurled  to  destruction  or  be  free.  The  crew 
watched  the  threatening  reef,  and  many  an  old  sea- 
man felt  that  he  had  never  been  in  greater  danger. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

XT  ED  DAVIS,  when  he  came  down  from  aloft, 
had  taken  his  post  again  near  his  beloved 
commander.  "I  am  a  good  swimmer,"  he  said  to 
himself,  "and  I  will  do  my  best  to  save  the  captain. 
If  I  fail  I  will  perish  with  him."  Such  were  the 
thoughts  which  passed  through  his  mind,  as  the 
most  critical  moment  of  all  had  arrived.  Nearer 
and  nearer  the  corvette  drew  towards  the  rocks. 
Now  they  appeared  broad  on  the  lee-bow — now 
they  were  right  abeam — and  at  length  many  a  bold 
seaman  drew  his  breath  more  freely  as  they  were 
seen  over  the  quarter.  The  danger  was  passed. 
The  beautiful  little  ship  flew  on,  breasting  bravely 
the  foaming  billows.  At  length  she  had  clear  room 
once  more  to  make  a  tack.  She  came  about  before 
it  might  have  been  expected,  crippled  as  she  was, 
and  now  with  her  courses  hauled  up  she  stood  out 
to  sea. 

"Pipe  below,"  cried  the  captain,  leaving  the 
weather  side  of  the  poop,  where  he  had  stood  since 
the  ship  had  first  got  under  weigh.  "Keep  her 


256  Shore  and  Ocean. 

south-west  Mr.  Matson,"  he  observed,  as  he  retired 
to  his  cabin;  "and  call  me  on  deck  should  any 
change  take  place  in  the  weather." 

It  would  be  difficult  to  describe  the  feelings  of 
those  on  shore  who  had  watched  for  so  long  the 
manoeuvres  of  the  corvette  as  she  worked  her  way 
out  of  the  bay.  Often  Lady  Nora  lifted  up  her 
hands  as  if  praying  to  Heaven  for  the  safety  of  those 
on  board.  Each  time,  too,  the  ship  approached  the 
dangerous  reef,  with  the  character  of  which  she  was 
so  well  acquainted,  her  cheek  turned  paler  than 
usual,  and  her  bated  breath  showed  the  agitation 
of  her  feelings. 

Yet,  did  she  love  the  young  commander  of  the 
corvette  ?  She  would  scarcely  have  acknowledged 
thus  much  to  herself.  He  had  not  declared  his 
affection,  and  yet  she  felt  almost  sure  that  he  was 
truly  attached  to  her. 

"I  must  remember  that  he  was  poor  Barry's 
friend,"  she  said  to  herself;  "yet  Barry  did  not  pre- 
tend to  know  to  what  family  he  belonged;  indeed, 
he  would  never  tell  us  how  he  first  became  ac- 
quainted with  him.  That  was  very  strange,  for  as 
often  as  I  put  the  question  he  evaded  it,  and  re- 
plied, 'I  value  him  for  himself,  for  the  noble  quali- 
ties he  possesses,  and  not  for  what  he  may  possibly 
have  been.  On  board  ship  we  think  only  of  our 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  257 

rank  in  the  service,  and  what  sort  of  fellow  a  man 
shows  himself  to  be  by  his  conduct.  So,  Nora,  do 
not  say  anything  more  about  the  matter.'" 

At  length,  when  the  corvette,  as  far  as  she  was 
able  to  judge  in  the  thick  gathering  gloom  of  night, 
seemed  to  be  clear  of  the  land,  Nora  could  not  re- 
frain from  giving  vent  to  her  pent-up  feelings  in 
tears,  while  a  prayer  of  thankfulness  went  up  from 
her  heart  to  Heaven. 

Some  time  passed  before  she  entirely  recovered 
from  the  effects  of  the  fearful  danger  in  which  she 
had  been  placed.  She  looked  forward,  day  after 
day,  for  the  return  of  the  corvette,  but  in  vain. 
She  eagerly  examined  the  newspapers,  but  none  of 
them  mentioned  the  Ariadne.  She  might  still  be 
on  the  coast  of  Ireland,  or  have  been  ordered  else- 
where. "  From  what  Captain  Denham  had  said  be- 
fore he  took  his  departure,  she  was  fully  persuaded 
he  would  soon  return;  and  it  must  be  confessed, 
she  longed  to  ask  him  many  questions.  There  were 
various  doubts  passing  through  her  mind  which  she 
was  anxious  to  have  solved.  She  scarcely,  how- 
ever, would  trust  herself  to  speak  of  them  even  to 
Sophy.  She  was  soon  to  have  her  mind  occupied 
with  other  cares. 

Her  father,  who  had  never  recovered  the  loss  of 
his  son,  or  his  visit  to  the  West  Indies,  was  now 
17 


258  Shore  and  Ocean. 

very  evidently  declining  in  health.  He  could  no 
longer  follow  the  hounds,  or  ride  out  as  before. 
He  took  little  or  no  interest  in  public  affairs.  Even 
his  neighbours  he  declined  seeing  when  they  called, 
though  he  seemed  always  glad  to  have  a  visit  from 
Mr.  Jamieson  or  his  blind  niece.  He  held  frequent 
conversations  with  the  steward  about  his  affairs, 
which  seemed  greatly  to  trouble  him.  At  length 
it  was  determined  to  send  to  Dublin  to  request  the 
presence  of  his  family  lawyer,  Mr.  Finlayson,  who, 
though  now  an  old  man,  was  sufficiently  hale  to 
undertake  the  journey.  He  had,  it  appeared,  as 
had  his  father  before  him,  managed  for  many  years 
the  Kilfinnan  property. 

Nora  willingly  agreed  to  write  to  request  his 
attendance,  for  she  felt,  that  as  he  was  a  faithful 
friend  of  her  father's,  he  would  certainly  be  a  com- 
fort to  him,  and  might  also  be  able  to  suggest  a 
means  of  placing  the  property  in  a  more  satisfac- 
tory state  than  it  was  in  at  present.  She  thought 
nothing  of  herself;  it  scarcely  occurred  to  her  that 
she  was  to  become  the  heiress  of  it  all.  She  knew 
that  the  title  would  become  extinct  at  her  father's 
death,  but  that  caused  her  no  regret.  She  sup- 
posed that  her  income  would  enable  her  and  her 
cousin  Sophy  to  live  as  they  had  been  accustomed. 
More  she  did  not  require. 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  259 

Within  a  week  Mr.  Patrick  Finlayson  arrived  in 
a  chaise  from  Dublin.  In  those  days  the  journey 
was  not  performed  as  rapidly  as  at  present,  and  the 
dangers  to  be  encountered  were  not  a  few.  He  was 
a  small,  neatly  made,  active  little  man,  with  a  clear 
complexion,  which  even  his  advanced  age  had 
scarcely  succeeded  in  depriving  of  the  hue  of  youth, 
though  his  hair  was  white  as  snow.  His  eyes  were 
bright  and  intelligent,  and  his  whole  manner  and 
appearance  showed  that  he  was  still  capable  of 
a  considerable  amount  of  active  exertion.  His 
brown  suit,  knee  breeches,  and  silk  stockings,  were 
set  off  by  brightly  polished  steel  buttons  and 
diamond  buckles.  Having  paid  his  respects  to  the 
ladies  of  the  family,  and  addressed  Lady  Nora  in  his 
usual  easy,  familiar  style,  which  showed  that  he  had 
from  her  earliest  youth  claimed  the  honour  of  being 
one  of  her  admirers  and  friends,  he  made  more 
especial  inquiries  about  the  Earl. 

"  You  will  see  a  great  change  in  my  father,"  said 
Nora,  "but  your  coming  will,  I  feel  sure,  do  him 
good.  You  know  more  about  our  affairs  than  we  do. 
I  only  hope  things  are  not  worse  than  he  supposes, 
and  if  they  are,  I  must  ask  you  to  conceal  the  truth 
from  him;  I  am  afraid  it  would  do  him  no  good  to 
make  him  aware  of  it,  and  would  only  deeply  grieve 
him.  I  care  not  so  much  if  I  only  am  the  sufferer." 


260  Shore  and  Ocean. 

"  You  need  not  be  alarmed,  my  dear  Lady  Nora," 
answered  the  old  man,  taking  her  hand.  "  Things 
are  not  worse  than  the  Earl  supposes;  on  the  con- 
trary, I  have  of  late  seen  the  importance  of  not 
allowing  him  to  believe  that  they  were  improving 
as  much  as  they  have  been.  You  know  probably, 
your  good  father's  disposition,  and  are  aware,  that 
had  he  discovered  this,  he  would  very  quickly  have 
launched  out  again  into  his  old  habits  of  extrava- 
gance, which,  however,  from  the  sad  account  you 
give  of  him,  he  is  not  now  likely  to  do,  and  therefore 
I  am  prepared  to  tell  him  the  whole  truth.  Your 
affairs,  Lady  Nora,  require  nursing,  I  will  confess  to 
that,  and  careful  management,  but  a  few  years 
of  economy  will,  I  hope,  place  them  on  a  satisfactory 
footing." 

"  This  is  indeed  pleasant  news  you  bring  us, 
Mr.  Finlayson;  I  own  when  I  heard  that  you  had  con- 
sented to  come,  that  I  feared  things  were  rather 
worse  than  better,  but  I  am  indeed  very  grateful  to 
you  for  coming;  you  have  always  been  one  of  our 
truest  friends,  and  I  am  sure  at  the  present  moment 
you  will  be  a  great  comfort  to  my  poor  father.  I  will 
let  the  Earl  know  of  your  arrival,  and  I  am  sure  he 
will  be  glad  to  see  you  at  once.  During  the  last 
few  days  he  has  grown  very  much  weaker,  and  his 
medical  attendant  will  not  tell  me  what  he  thinks  of 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  261 

his  case.  He  himself  speaks  very  willingly  to  our 
friend  and  neighbour  Mr.  Jamieson,  who  when  I 
ask  him  what  he  thinks,  always  looks  very  grave, 
and  replies,  '  that  the  lives  of  all  of  us  are  in  God's 
hands,  and  that  we  should  be  prepared  to  lose  those 
we  love  at  any  moment.'  This  makes  me,  as  you 
may  suppose  extremely  anxious." 

While  Lady  Nora  was  speaking  the  old  gentleman 
became  very  serious. 

"  I  should  like  to  see  the  Earl  as  soon  as  possible," 
he  observed;  "  I  have  several  matters  of  importance 
to  consult  him  about,  which  I  should  not  like  to  put 
off  until  he  becomes  still  weaker  than  you  tell  me  he 
is  at  present.  You  will  excuse  me,  Lady  Nora,  when 
I  say  I  should  like  to  be  alone  with  him  for  some 
time." 

"O  yes,  sir,"  said  Lady  Nora;  "I  know  that  what- 
ever you  have  to, say  to  my  father  you  have  the  right 
to  say  to  him;  and  I  feel  such  perfect  confidence  in 
you  that  I  have  no  desire  to  pry  into  any  secrets 
you  may  have  with  him." 

Nora  having  left  the  lawyer,  soon  returned  with 
the  information,  that  the  Earl  was  ready  to  receive 
him. 

Mr.  Finlayson  found  the  Earl  sitting  in  an  arm- 
chair, propped  up  with  pillows,  gazing  out  on  the 
ocean  on  whose  blue  and  slightly  ruffled  waves  the 


262  Shore  and  Ocean. 

sunbeams  were  playing  brilliantly.  The  Earl  smiled 
as  his  old  friend  entered,  and  held  out  his  hand 
warmly  to  him. 

"Sit 'down,  Finlayson;  you  have  come  at  a  sad 
moment.  I  feel  a  strange  weakness  creeping  over 
me,  and  I  am  glad  that  you  have  not  longer  put  off 
your  visit.  Yes,  I  believe  the  moment  is  approach- 
ing for  which  we  all  should  be  prepared,  when  I  must 
leave  this  world.  I  wish  I  could  look  back  to  all  I 
have  done  during  my  life  with  satisfaction;  but  I  can- 
not say  that  I  can  do  that.  I  have  been  hospitable 
and  generous,  I  own,  according  to  the  notion  of  peo- 
ple; but  alas  !  Finlayson,  for  the  peasantry  under  my 
charge,  for  the  multitudes  of  my  poorer  neighbours, 
how  little  have  I  done  ?  I  might  have  set  them  a 
better  example;  I  might  have  obtained  some  educa- 
tion for  them;  and,  perhaps,  by  going  among  them, 
restrained  them  from  committing  the  excesses  into 
which  from  time  to  time  they  have  plunged." 

"Very  true,"  answered  the  lawyer;  "I  believe 
there  are  very  few  people  who  have  not  to  say  some- 
thing like  that,  when  they  are  about  to  leave  the 
world;  but  we  must  not  think  of  what  we  have  done 
or  left  undone  ourselves.  You  believe  in  the  simple 
Gospel;  I  am  sure  you  do,  or  you  would  have  listened 
to  Mr.  Jamieson's  preaching,  as  I  have  often  seen  you 
doing — in  vain.  We  will  speak  of  that  by-and-by. 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  263 

I  rather  hope  that  you  think  worse  of  your  case  than 
you  should  do.  I  do  not  hear  that  the  doctor  is  of 
the  same  opinion  as  you  are,  and  so,  my  dear  lord, 
there  are  certain  points  with  regard  to  your  property 
which  I,  as  your  legal  adviser,  would  wish  in  the  first 
place,  to  discuss." 

Mr.  Finlayson  then  entered  into  particulars,  which 
it  is  not  here  necessary  to  introduce. 

The  Earl  seemed  much  relieved  on  hearing  that 
his  property  was  less  encumbered  than  he  had 
supposed. 

"But  there  is  another  point,  my  lord,  on  which 
I  shall  wish  particularly  to  consult  you." 

"Well,  the  sooner  we  speak  of  anything  of  im- 
portance the  better,  Finlayson.  We  know  not  what 
another  day  may  bring  forth,"  observed  the  Earl. 

He  already  spoke  with  some  difficulty. 

"Well,  my  lord,  at  all  events  I  should  like  to 
know  your  wishes  on  the  subject,"  said  the  lawyer. 
"Your  lordship  knows  that  your  father  had  an  elder 
brother." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Earl,  in  a  somewhat  surprised  tone. 

"He  was  considerably  older  than  your  father," 
continued  the  lawyer.  "He  was  a  somewhat  wild 
and  extravagant  man.  Your  lordship  may  possibly 
remember  that  he  engaged  in  one  of  the  unhappy 
outbreaks  of  those  days." 


264  Shore  and  Ocean. 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  the  Earl  hastily.  "I  heard  that 
he  became  a  rebel  against  his  king  and  country." 

"Well,  my  lord,  you  know  many  honourable  men 
joined  with  him  on  that  occasion." 

"I  fancy  that  he  was  found  guilty  of  high-trea- 
son, was  he  not?"  said  the  Earl. 

"Yes,"  answered  the  lawyer.  "An  act  of  attain- 
der was  passed  against  him,  by  which  he  lost  both 
title  and  property.  Had  it  not  been  for  the  interest 
of  your  father,  it  would  have  been  lost  to  the  family 
altogether;  but,  as  he  had  always  proved  loyal,  he 
was  allowed  to  inherit  the  property  in  the  place  of 
his  brother,  for  your  grandfather,  if  you  remember, 
was  alive  at  that  time." 

"Yes;  but  of  what  consequence  is  that  at  the 
present  day?"  asked  the  Earl. 

"I  am  coming  to  that,  my  lord,"  said  Mr.  Finlay- 
son.  "Your  uncle,  it  appeared,  married  and  had  a 
son  and  your  father,  who  really  loved  his  brother, 
being  at  that  time  a  bachelor,  petitioned  the  Gov- 
ernment, that  in  case  of  his  death  without  an  heir, 
his  elder  brother's  guiltless  child  might  succeed  to 
the  property,  and  regain  the  title  of  which  his  fa- 
ther had  been  deprived." 

"  Ah  !  "  said  the  Earl,  "  I  was  not  aware  of  that ; 
but  had  this  relative  of  mine  (this  cousin  I  suppose 
I  should  call  him)  a  son  ? " 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  265 

"That  for  a  long  time  was  a  matter  of  doubt," 
said  the  lawyer.  "It  appeared,  however,  that  he, 
when  a  young  man,  inherited  many  of  his  father's 
qualities,  and  was  in  all  respects  fully  as  wild  and 
unmanageable  as  he  had  been,  and  he  very  soon,  in 
consequence,  brought  himself  within  power  of  the 
law." 

"  I  hope  he  never  committed  any  act  unworthy 
of  a  gentleman  or  of  his  name  and  family,"  said  the 
Earl,  with  more  animation  than  he  had  hitherto 
shown.  "At  least  I  trust  one  of  the  last  scions  of 
our  race  brought  no  disgrace  on  it." 

"No,  my  lord,"  said  the  lawyer,  smiling;  "he 
was  only  guilty  of  that  gentlemanly  act, — treason, 
having  united  himself  with  some  of  those  unhappy 
people,  who  hoped  to  overthrow  the  authority  of 
the  Government.  He  became  a  United  Irishman, 
and  took  part  in  the  rebellion  of  that  time.  He 
was  at  length  committed  to  prison,  and  to  my  great 
dismay  I  found  that  he  had  been  condemned  to 
death." 

"  Did  he  retain  his  own  name,  or  had  he  assumed 
another  ?  "  asked  the  Earl. 

"  He  had  some  time  before  dropped  his  family 
name,  and  wisely  too,  considering  the  position  in 
which  he  was  placed,"  answered  the  lawyer.  "  He 
had  contrived,  however,  to  make  friends  both  within 


266  Shore  and  Ocean. 

and  outside  the  walls  of  the  prison,  and  by  their 
means  he  managed  to  escape.  A  price  was  of  course 
set  upon  his  head,  and  it  was  generally  supposed 
that  he  had  left  the  country.  I  thought  so  likewise 
for  some  time ;  but  his  father,  who  was  then  alive, 
had  placed  some  sums  of  money  in  my  hands,  and 
empowered  me  to  devote  them  to  his  assistance.  I 
suppose  he  discovered  this,  for  after  a  short  time  I 
received  a  letter  from  him,  by  which  he  led  me  to 
understand  that  he  was  still  in  the  country,  but  in 
a  position  where  it  was  not  at  all  likely  he  would  be 
discovered.  He  told  me,  moreover,  that  he  had  no 
intention  of  leaving  Ireland ;  that  he  had  lately 
married  a  young  country  girl,  and  was  very  happy 
in  his  present  position.  He  praised  his  wife  as  a 
most  beautiful  creature,  and  said  that  in  her  society 
he  hoped  in  future  to  remain  quiet,  and  refrain  from 
any  of  the  acts  which  had  hitherto  brought  him  into 
trouble.  He  had  taken  so  many  precautions  that, 
notwithstanding  all  my  exertions,  I  could  not  find 
out  where  he  was.  Still  he  enabled  me  to  remit  the 
money  he  required.  I  should  have  told  you  that 
when  your  father  had  made  the  arrangement  which 
I  have  been  describing,  he  bound  over  his  nephew 
and  his  son  not  to  make  any  claim  to  the  title,  as 
long  as  an  heir  of  his  own  line  existed.  But  should 
he  have  no  male  heir,  then  the  eldest  of  his  de- 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  267 

scendants  was  allowed  to  put  in  a  claim  for  the  title. 
This  document,  and  other  legal  proofs  of  his  iden- 
tity, your  cousin  had  obtained  possession  of.  He 
told  me,  I  remember,  in  his  letter,  that  he  consid- 
ered himself  strictly  bound  to  adhere  to  the  agree- 
ment, and  that  as  for  himself,  he  had  no  wish  ever 
to  claim  the  title  which  had  belonged  to  his  ances- 
tors; that  he  had  sufficient  to  satisfy  his  wants;  that 
he  was  tired  of  ambition ;  and  that  he  was  perfectly 
content  to  let  his  country  go  on  in  its  present  con- 
dition, without  interfering  in  politics.  I  replied  that 
his  resolution  was  a  wise  one,  and  undertook  when- 
ever he  desired  to  have  the  money  forwarded  to 
him,  to  send  it  immediately.  I  of  course  did  my 
best  to  try  and  discover  where  he  was  and  whom  he 
had  married.  Once  or  twice  I  was  very  near  suc- 
ceeding. I  traced  him  to  two  or  three  places,  but 
at  length  I  entirely  lost  all  clue  to  him.  I  suspect 
he  was  aware  I  was  endeavouring  to  discover  him, 
and  thus,  as  he  had  already  had  much  practice  in 
playing  the  game  of  hide-and-seek,  he  was  able 
completely  to  evade  me." 

"  That  is  a  strange  story  you  have  told  me,"  said 
the  Earl;  "I  had  forgotten  many  of  the  circum- 
stances to  which  you  allude.  Alas  !  as  long  as  my 
own  boy  lived  it  was  a  matter  of  no  consequence. 
I  felt  very  sure  that  my  own  patent  was  secure, 


268  Shore  and  Ocean. 

and  that  he  would  inherit  my  title  and  estates; 
but  now  it  seems  that  through  this  curious  arrange- 
ment of  my  father,  matters  have  altered;  but  sure- 
ly should  an  heir  appear,  he  could  not  deprive  my 
daughter  of  Kilfinnan  Castle,  and  the  estates  which 
belong  to  it." 

"In  the  unlikely  event  of  a  claimant  establish- 
ing his  right  to  the  earldom,  he  would  also  in- 
herit the  Kilfinnan  estates,"  answered  the  lawyer; 
"  but  you  will  remember  there  are  the  estates  in 
Derry,  which  were  formerly  separated  from  the  Kil- 
finnan property,  and  according  to  the  arrangements 
made  by  the  late  Earl,  they  become  the  heritage 
of  the  females  should  there  be  no  son  to  succeed. 
Thus  Lady  Nora  will  at  all  events  retain  the  Derry 
estates,  even  though  it  may  turn  out  that  your 
long-missing  cousin  has  left  a  son  to  inherit  the 
the  title  and  Kilfinnan  property." 

The  Earl  sighed  deeply. 

"It  matters  very  little  to  myself.  My  dear  Nora 
has  no  ambition,  and  as  her  tastes  are  simple,  she 
will  be  perfectly  content  with  the  Derry  estates, 
where  she  will,  I  feel  sure,  devote  herself  to  the  care 
of  the  surrounding  peasantry,  and  will  avoid  those 
extravagances  which  would  injure  her  property,  as 
alas  !  I  have  done." 

The   lawyer  sat   for  some  time  longer  with  his 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  269 

friend,  but  the  Earl  at  length,  observing  that  he 
felt  very  faint,  desired  that  his  doctor,  who  was  in 
the  house,  might  be  sent  for.  The  man  of  medicine 
soon  appeared,  and  feeling  the  Earl's  pulse  instantly 
administered  restoratives.  In  a  short  time  the  Earl 
rallied,  and  desired  that  Lady  Nora  and  his  niece 
might  be  sent  for.  They  came  and  sat  with  him  for 
nearly  an  hour,  when  he  begged  that  they  would 
retire  to  their  rooms,  assuring  them  that  he  felt 
much  better,  and  that  he  hoped  the  following  day 
he  should  have  more  conversation  with  Mr.  Finlay- 
son  on  the  matters  of  business  which  he  wished  to 
discuss  with  him. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

TT^VENING  approached,  and  Nora  and  her  cousin 
^^  sat  in  the  tower  chamber  overlooking  the 
ocean.  They  neither  of  them  felt  disposed  to  go  to 
sleep.  The  night  was  calm  and  lovely,  the  atmos- 
phere unclouded.  The  stars  shone  forth  brightly, 
and  the  light  crescent  moon  was  reflected  in  the 
waters  below.  The  reef  of  rocks  on  the  other  side 
of  the  bay  could  be  distinguished,  and  the  lofty 
headlands  beyond  it  stood  out  in  bold  relief  against 
the  sky,  while  to  their  extreme  right  they  could  see 
the  whole  sweep  of  the.  bay  and  the  lofty  downs 
above  it.  It  is  not  surprising  that  they  should  have 
been  unwilling  to  tear  themselves  away  from  such  a 
scene.  It  calmed  their  agitated  feelings,  for  Nora 
could  not  conceal  from  herself  that  one  of  the  kind- 
est of  fathers  was  about  to  be  taken  from  her,  while 
Lady  Sophy,  almost  friendless  as  she  was,  felt  that 
she  was  about  to  lose  her  best  protector.  She  could, 
it  was  true,  live  on  with  her  cousin  Nora,  and  watch 
over  her,  as  she  had  ever  done,  like  an  elder  sis- 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  271 

ter  over  one  far  younger  than  herself.  Already, 
Lady  Sophy's  early  beauty  had  completely  depart- 
ed. There  was  the  same  outline  of  feature,  and 
the  same  elegant  figure,  but  her  countenance  wore 
that  sad  expression  (too  often  to  be  seen  marking 
the  features  of  the  once  young  and  lovely)  of  disap- 
pointed affection,  of  blighted  hopes.  Thus  they  sat 
on,  hour  after  hour.  A  dark  shadow  passed  across 
the  moon,  and  threw  a  gloom  over  the  hitherto 
bright  landscape.  Suddenly  they  were  startled  by 
a  loud,  wild  shriek.  It  seemed  to  come  from  far 
away  across  the  ocean.  Now  it  swelled  into  a  high 
note  of  wailing;  now  it  sank  into  a  mournful  tone 
of  grief.  Again  and  again  that  strange  sound  struck 
their  ears. 

"  The  banshee  ! "  exclaimed  Nora,  placing  her 
hand  on  Sophy's  shoulder  with  alarm.  "  Surely  I 
have  always  believed  that  it  was  a  mere  supersti- 
tion of  the  ignorant  peasantry — a  phantom  of  the 
imagination;  but  here  is  a  dreadful  reality.  Yes,  it 
surely  must  be  the  banshee,  and  what  does  it  fore- 
bode ?  Sophy,  you  know  too  well,  and  so  do  I. 
Perhaps  it  is  sent  in  mercy,  to  warn  and  prepare 
us  for  that  dreadful  event.  But  ought  we  not  to 
have  been  prepared  already?  The  last  words  my 
dear  father  spoke  to  me  were  sufficient  to  make 
me  feel  he  was  aware  of  the  great  change  about 


272  Shore  and  Ocean. 

to  take  place.  Let  us  hasten  to  him.  Perhaps 
even  now  his  spirit  is  departing,  and  I  would  be 
at  his  side  at  that  awful  moment." 

"  Stay,  Nora,"  said  Sophy;  "  I  do  not  believe  in 
the  banshee,  or  any  other  being  of  the  sort.  I  see 
no  figure,  and  even  did  I,  I  should  not  be  con- 
vinced that  it  was  a  being  of  another  world.  I 
know  that  many  believe  such  things  exist.  Some 
think  they  are  sent  in  kindness;  others,  that  they 
are  rather  evil  spirits  permitted  to  disturb  the  part- 
ing hours  of  the  dying;  but  that,  at  all  events,  I  am 
sure  is  not  the  case.  Let  us  watch  a  short  time 
longer.  Depend  upon  it,  we  are  deceived  in  some 
way." 

"  Oh,  no,  no  !  "  exclaimed  Nora,  pointing  towards 
the  nearest  part  of  the  beach  which  was  visible. 
"  See  that  phantom  figure  moving  across  the  sands ! 
Surely  that  must  be  the  banshee  !  What  else  ? " 

"  No,  dear  Nora,  calm  yourself,"  answered  Sophy. 
"  Do  not  you  recognize  the  figure  of  poor  mad 
Kathleen  ?  She  must  have  uttered  those  cries  as 
she  passed  under  the  castle  walls.  She  must  have 
come  to  ask  after  the  Earl,  and,  as  bad  news  flies 
fast,  she  has  probably  been  told  he  is  sinking  rap- 
idly. So,  as  she  has  received  many  a  kindness 
from  the  family,  she  is  giving  vent  to  her  grief  in 
those  wild,  unearthly  screams  and  cries." 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  273 

"You  are  right,  Sophy,"  answered  Nora,  "but, 
for  the  moment,  I  could  not  help  believing  in  the 
existence  of  the  wild  phantom  we  have  read  of  and 
heard  so  often  about  in  our  younger  days  from  the 
surrounding  cottagers.  Yes,  I  see  it  is  poor  Kath- 
leen. I  trust  my  poor  father  has  not  heard  it,  for, 
in  his  weak  state,  it  might  have  a  bad  effect  upon 
his  nerves.  Yet  he  certainly  does  not  believe  in 
the  existence  of  the  banshee." 

The  poor  girls  had  not  long  to  watch  before  they 
were  again  summoned,  and  this  time  it  was  to  stand 
by  the  dying  bed  of  the  Earl.  Holding  the  hand  of 
his  daughter,  which  he  gently  pressed,  he  breathed 
his  last,  with  scarcely  a  sigh,  and  evidently  without 
any  pain  or  suffering.  Mr.  Jamieson,  who  had  been 
summoned,  stood  by  him.  "  He  rests  in  peace,"  he 
said;  "he  trusted  in  One  all-powerful  to  save, 
though  he  made  but  little  profession  of  his  faith." 

Poor  Nora  was  led  from  the  death-bed  of  her 
father  to  her  own  room,  but  it  was  long  before  she 
could  find  vent  for  her  grief  in  tears.  Her  cousin 
Sophy  had  long  ceased  to  weep.  Those  who  have 
suffered  great  unhappiness,  whose  fondest  affections 
have  been  blighted,  as  hers  had  been,  often  find  it 
impossible  again  to  gain  relief  by  weeping.  Such 
was  her  case.  She  mourned  the  loss  of  the  Earl, 
as  much  as  did  her  cousin,  but  it  was  in  a  different 
18 


274  Shore  and  Ocean. 

way.  Not  a  tear  dropped  from  her  eye.  She  found 
no  vent  for  all  she  felt.  Nora,  on  the  contrary, 
exhibited  her  grief  far  more  violently,  and  thus, 
perhaps,  the  sooner  regained  tranquillity. 

Mr.  Finlayson,  as  he  had  promised  the  Earl,  acted 
the  part  of  a  kind  father  to  her.  He  treated  her  as 
a  petted  child,  spoke  words  of  comfort  to  her  on  all 
occasions,  and  tried  by  every  means  to  raise  her 
spirits.  Often  he  succeeded  in  doing  so,  and  she 
could  not  help  expressing  a  wish  that  he  could 
remain  at  the  castle,  instead  of  returning  to  Dublin. 

"Well,  well,"  he  answered,  "I  will  do  my  best  to 
please  you,  my  dear  young  lady.  I  have  a  son  and 
grandson  well  able  to  attend  to  my  business,  and  as 
long  as  I  am  not  required  at  home,  you  shall  have 
the  benefit  of  my  company." 

In  those  days  the  burial  of  even  a  peasant  was 
attended  with  much  parade,  and  any  family  would 
have  been  thought  mean  unless  the  body  of  their 
deceased  relative  was  properly  waked.  Although 
the  corpse  of  a  Protestant  Earl  had  not  to  go 
through  this  ceremony,  yet  it  would  have  been 
looked  upon  as  a  great  disgrace  to  the  family  had 
not  all  the  neighbours  been  invited  from  far  and 
near  to  attend  the  funeral,  and  be  sumptuously 
feasted.  Had  Nora  been  consulted  she  would  glad- 
ly have  avoided  anything  of  the  sort.  Mr.  Finlay- 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  275 

son  declared,  however,  that  it  was  not  the  day  to 
break  through  their  old  customs,  and,  for  the  credit 
of  the  family,  they  must  issue  the  usual  invitations. 
Nora  and  Sophy,  however,  begged  that  they  might 
be  allowed  to  keep  their  rooms,  although  Nora  had 
been  anxious  to  attend  her  father  to  the  grave. 
This  it  was  arranged  she  should  do  in  a  private 
carriage.  When  the  day  arrived,  however,  from  far 
and  near  came  squires  and  squireens,  and  farmers 
and  peasants,  in  all  sorts  of  conveyances,  the  larger 
number  being  on  horseback,  while  several  friends 
of  the  deceased  nobleman  arrived  from  a  distance 
to  pay  their  last  respects  to  his  remains. 

It  was  a  sad  sight,  even  to  Nora;  but  she  resolved 
to  go  through  with  what  she  thought  was  required 
of  her,  and  then  she  hoped  to  be  allowed  to  remain 
at  rest  for  many  a  long  day.  The  parish  church,  in 
which  the  tomb  of  the  family  was  situated,  was 
about  three  miles  off;  and  after  the  guests  had  been 
regaled  at  breakfast  with  wines  of  all  sorts  for  the 
upper  classes,  and  whisky,  which  flowed  in  profusion, 
for  the  lower,  they  mounted  their  horses,  and  entered 
their  conveyances,  to  follow  the  hearse  decorated 
with  the  usual  trappings  of  mourning.  Behind  the 
hearse,  in  a  mourning  carriage,  sat  Nora  and  her 
cousin,  closely  veiled.  Poor  girls,  how  differently 
they  felt  to  the  mixed  multitude  who  followed  them. 


276  Shore  and  Ocean. 

Their  guests  gave  way  to  their  usual  habit  of  talking 
and  laughing  as  they  rode  along.  The  events  of  the 
day  were  discussed.  The  good  qualities  of  the  late 
Earl;  the  prospects  of  his  obtaining  a  son-in-law 
who  might  take  his  place  and  do  the  honours  of  the 
castle;  the  beauty  of  his  fair  daughter;  and  especially, 
the  state  of  his  finances.  Few  would  have  supposed 
that  the  lively  and  animated  collection  of  men,  who 
rode  along  in  every  variety  of  costume,  were  assem- 
bled there  to  pay  the  last  honours  to  a  deceased 
noble.  They  were  silent,  however,  as  they  assem- 
bled round  the  grave.  Some  perhaps  for  the  first 
time  had  then  heard  the  burial  service  of  the  Protes- 
tant Church  as  a  large  proportion  of  the  guests  were 
themselves  Romanists;  some  perhaps  were  struck 
with  what  they  heard;  others  probably  attended  to 
little  that  was  said.  Nora  and  her  cousin  stood 
close  to  the  grave,  closely  veiled  as  before;  and  as 
Nora  gazed  for  the  last  time  upon  the  coffin  of  her 
beloved  father,  her  heart  sank  within  her  and  she 
felt  a  longing  to  follow  him  to  his  quiet  resting-place. 
Again  they  made  for  the  castle,  and  all  restraint 
now  being  removed,  laughing  and  joking  was  the 
order  of  the  day.  Some  even,  as  the  wine  flowed 
faster,  gave  way  to  snatches  of  songs,  while  the  last 
meets  were  fully  discussed,  and  the  prospects  of  the 
next  year's  harvest.  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  de- 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  277 

scribe  the  events  which  took  place  at  the  castle.  A 
considerable  number  of  the  guests  had  no  little  diffi- 
culty in  mounting  their  horses  on  their  return  home, 
from  the  generous  liquor  which  they  had  imbibed  out 
of  the  late  Earl's  cellars.  Their  great  grief  seemed 
to  be,  that  there  was  no  heir  to  succeed  him,  and  to 
assist  in  keeping  up  the  neighbouring  hunt.  At 
length  the  castle  was  once  more  at  rest. 

Mr.  Finlayson  set  earnestly  to  work  to  arrange 
the  affairs  of  the  young  heiress.  The  steward,  and 
those  who  were  employed  by  him,  had  generally 
acted  honestly;  but  as  he  made  inquiries  about  the 
tenants,  many  were  in  arrear  with  rent,  and  he  saw 
that  some  effort  must  be  made  to  compel  them  to 
pay.  He  called  the  steward  in  for  a  consultation. 

"You  give  very  good  advice,  Mr.  Finlayson;  but 
I  will  just  ask  you,  as  a  Scotchman  said,  'Who  is 
to  bell  the  cat  ?'  You  know,  surely,  that  to  attempt 
to  distrain  for  rent  on  some  of  these  gentlemen 
would  assuredly  bring  a  bullet  through  your  brain 
or  mine.  It  is  not  an  easy  matter  to  get  money  out 
of  an  Irishman  when  he  is  determined  not  to  pay, 
and  it  is  not  for  you  or  me,  if  we  are  wise  men,  to 
push  the  matter  too  hard.  I  will  do  my  best  and 
go  among  them,  and  put  it  to  them,  whether  they 
would  like  to  deprive  the  young  heiress  of  her 
property.  Perhaps,  though  they  will  not  yield  to 


278  Shore  and  Ocean. 

force,  they  may  to  persuasion,  and  I  am  thankful 
to  say,  we  still  retain  in  old  Ireland,  the  gift  of 
blarney.  You  see,  sir,  we  shall  get  much  more 
out  of  them  in  that  way.  I  will  just  ask  them  if 
they  would  like  to  attack  a  young  lady  and  rifle  her 
pockets.  Put  it  thus  to  them,  and  show  them  that 
if  they  keep  back  the  money  they  are  doing  the 
same  thing.  Now,  we  shall  see,  if  I  go  on  this  plan, 
whether  those  who  can  pay  will  pay,  while  those 
who  cannot  pay,  it  is  very  evident,  will  not  do  so; 
but  to  my  mind  there  is  no  use  turning  a  man 
adrift  in  the  world  if  you  can  help  it.  A  better  day 
may  come,  and  then  he  may  prove  a  good  tenant. 
If  you  turn  him  out  of  one  property  he  will  just 
build  a  hut  in  another  corner  of  the  land,  and  you 
will  have  him  there  starving  before  your  eyes,  and 
you  will  not  be  the  better  for  the  move." 

"Well,  well,  O'Connor,  you  are  a  wise  man,  I  see. 
I  will  let  you  have  your  way  in  that  respect.  We 
will  do  nothing  to  create  an  ill-feeling  against  the 
dear  young  mistress,  and  it  is  for  you  and  I  who  are 
engaged  to  serve  her  to  look  after  her  interests. 
I  wish  she  had  a  good  husband  to  help  her;  but  it 
is  my  belief,  from  what  I  see  here,  that  there  is  not 
a  young  man  in  the  country  at  all  fit  for  her.  She 
is  a  good,  gentle  creature,  and  were  she  to  wed  one 
of  the  rollicking,  harum-scarum  young  fellows  who 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  279 

are  her  equals,  he  would  break  her  heart;  and  stay- 
ing- at  home  as  she  does,  she  is  not  likely  to  meet 
any  others,  while  even  abroad  she  saw  no  one  to 
care  for,  or,  at  least,  no  one  appeared,  so  perhaps 
she  will  continue  to  live  a  maiden  life,  and  if  so, 
she  will  require  your  assistance  and  mine  as  long  as 
I  remain  in  the  world." 

Nora  and  Sophy  were  relieved  from  much  anx- 
iety by  the  continued  residence  of  the  kind  Mr. 
Finlayson  at  the  castle.  He  was  so  lively,  so  full 
of  conversation  and  anecdotes,  so  kind  and  judi- 
cious at  the  same  time.  He  raised  their  spirits 
more  than  any  one  else  could  have  done.  A  young 
man  would  have  been  out  of  place.  Even  kind, 
gentle  Miss  O'Reilly,  when  she  came  over,  though 
she  talked  very  pleasantly,  could  do  little  to  ani- 
mate them.  Mr.  Jamieson  performed  his  part  as 
well  as  he  could,  but  he  was  not  very  animated; 
he  was  more  inclined  to  speak  in  a  serious  than 
lively  strain. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

T  TAPPILY  human  beings  are  so  constituted, 
that  grief  with  few,  especially  with  the  young, 
lasts  long.  After  a  time,  Lady  Nora  and  her  cous- 
in recovered  their  usual  spirits,  and  began  to  ride 
about  the  country  as  before.  Their  chief  pleasure 
was  to  visit  those  they  had  long  known,  and  to 
extend  their  search  of  others  who  might  require 
relief.  The  surest  means  for  those  who  are  them- 
selves in  distress  of  obtaining  comfort  is  to  do  good 
to  their  fellow-creatures.  Several  times  they  paid 
a  visit  to  the  old  fish-wife,  Widow  O'Neil.  She 
seemed  to  have  grown  more  hardy  and  wiry  than 
ever.  It  was  wonderful  what  exertions  she  could 
go  through.  She  often  had  the  assistance  of  her 
brother  Shane,  who  was,  however,  advancing  in 
life,  and  not  so  active  as  before,  while  she  appeared 
to  have  retained  all  her  strength  and  activity. 
They  remarked,  whenever  they  paid  her  a  visit, 
the  delight  she  took  in  speaking  of  her  long-lost 
son.  She  never  failed  to  tell  them  that  she  had 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  281 

seen  him  in  her  dreams.  She  knew,  she  declared, 
that  he  was  thinking  of  her,  and  though  she  could 
not  say  why  he  was  detained,  he  was,  she  felt  cer- 
tain, endeavouring  to  come  back  to  her.  Some- 
times she  thought  he  was  a  slave  in  some  foreign 
land;  sometimes  that  he  had  been  cast  away  on 
some  desert  island,  and  had  to  live  there,  unable 
to  make  his  escape,  and  sometimes  that  he  was 
in  prison.  She  said  she  knew  he  was  in  far  distant 
lands,  as  that  alone  would  have  kept  him  from  her. 
They  could  not  help  being  struck  by  the  deep,  the 
intense  love  and  confidence  in  him  which  the  old 
woman  always  expressed  for  her  son,  though  they 
naturally  had  considerable  doubts  whether,  if  he 
really  was  alive,  he  could  feel  the  same  for  her. 

"  He  was  a  handsome  youth,"  observed  Lady  So- 
phy to  her  cousin,  but  there  was  a  wild,  daring  look 
in  his  eye,  and  he  was  a  lad  who,  when  once  away, 
and  having  obtained  a  better  position  in  life  than 
that  which  he  enjoyed  in  his  early  days,  would  very 
likely  cast  off  all  thoughts  of  his  poor  mother,  and 
would  have  no  wish  to  return  to  her  humble  cottage." 

"Oh,  no,  no,"  said  Lady  Nora,  "I  could  not  think 
that  of  him;  of  course  I  do  not  recollect  him  clearly, 
except  from  the  sketch  you  made  of  him,  but  yet  I 
am  sure  from  the  expression  of  his  countenance  that 
he  must  have  been  as  true  and  honest  as  he  was 


282  Shore  and  Ocean. 

handsome.  No,  I  would  rather  suppose  that  he  has 
long  since  been  killed.  Just  consider  how  many 
thousands  of  seaman  have  lost  their  lives  within  the 
last  few  years  in  the  numberless  battles  in  which 
our  country  has  been  engaged,  and  how  likely  it  is 
that  he  was  among  them,  and  that  is  why  no  one 
has  received  any  tidings  of  him." 

Such  was  the  conversation  which  took  place  as 
they  climbed  up  the  hill  to  return  to  their  horses. 
They  had  promised  Widow  O'Neil  to  visit  her  again 
in  a  day  or  two.  She  had  undertaken  to  supply 
them  with  shells  which  her  brother  Shane  had  col- 
lected, and  which  they  wished  to  send  to  a  friend  at 
a  distance.  When,  however,  the  day  arrived  on 
which  they  were  to  pay  their  visit,  the  morning 
broke  with  a  storm  of  rain  and  wind.  The  dark 
clouds  chased  each  other  over  the  sky,  and  the 
wind  whistled  .round  the  towers  of  the  castle. 

"  It  will  be  impossible  for  us  to  ride  to  Widow 
O'Neil's  to-day,"  observed  Sophy  when  they  met 
at  breakfast.  "I  do  not  think  Mr.  Finlayson  will 
promise  to  accompany  us ;  he  would  not  like  to 
face  the  bad  weather." 

"Perhaps  the  rain  will  clear  off,  and  then  he 
will  not  mind  the  wind  any  more  than  we  shall," 
observed  Sophy. 

Mr.  Finlayson,  who  then  entered  the  room,  de- 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  283 

clared  that  should  the  weather  clear,  he  was  ready 
to  mount  the  little  cob  which  had  been  appropriated 
for  his  use,  which  was  so  steady,  that  occasionally 
the  Earl  had  gone  out  shooting  on  its  back,  and  so 
sure-footed,  it  had  never  been  known  to  stumble. 

"But,  my  dear  Lady  Nora,  you  must  be  more 
careful  than  you  were  once  on  a  time,  on  a  skittish 
young  horse  which  nearly  proved  your  death,"  ob- 
served the  old  lawyer.  "A  day  like  this  tries  an 
animal;  and  unless  your  steed  is  as  steady  as  a  rock 
I  cannot  sanction  your  going  out." 

"Oh,  I  will  take  care  to  ride  one  of  the  best  be- 
haved of  our  stud,"  answered  Nora,  "and  Sophy 
shall  have  the  next,  as  she  is  somewhat  the  better 
horsewoman.  I  am  anxious  to  send  off  those  beau- 
tiful shells  to  Miss  Fitz-Patrick,  as  she  particularly 
begged  to  have  them,  and  we  may  not  have  another 
opportunity  of  doing  so  for  some  time." 

It  was  thus  arranged  that  the  horses  should  be 
ordered  in  the  forenoon,  should  the  weather  clear 
sufficiently,  and  that  they  would  pay  their  visit  to 
Widow  O'Neil.  In  a  short  time  the  rain  ceased  fall- 
ing, although  the  wind  continued  blowing  as  hard 
as  ever;  indeed,  it  was  a  complete  summer  gale. 
The  clouds  rushed  rapidly  along  the  sky,  and  the 
seas  rolled  in  with  all  their  force  from  across  the 
wide  Atlantic.  It  wanted  an  hour  or  more  to 


284  Shore  and  Ocean. 

the  time  they  had  agreed  to  set  out,  and  the  two 
ladies  retired  to  their  turret  boudoir.  Scarcely  had 
they  entered  the  room,  when  Lady  Nora  exclaimed 
that  she  saw  a  vessel  in  the  north-west,  at  no  great 
distance  from  the  land.  The  glass  was  turned  in 
the  direction  towards  which  she  pointed. 

"She  is  a  large  ship,"  she  observed,  "but  she 
seems  to  me  to  have  lost  most  of  her  masts,  there 
is  but  one  standing;  yes,  I  am  sure  of  that,  all  the 
rest  are  gone.  With  this  fierce  gale  blowing  on 
the  shore,  what  a  dangerous  position  she  is  in  !  I 
cannot  make  out  what  ship  she  is.  Do  you  look, 
Sophy;  what  do  you  say  to  it  ? " 

Sophy  looked  through  the  glass. 

"I  cannot  make  out  to  a  certainty,  but  from  her 
appearance,  I  should  judge  her  to  be  a  man-of-war. 
Yes,  I  am  nearly  sure  of  it;  I  should  say  that  she 
is  a  frigate,  for  when  I  keep  the  telescope  steady,  I 
can  almost  count  her  ports." 

Nora  looked  through  the  glass. 

"Yes,  you  are  right,"  she  said;  "she  seems  to 
be  standing  to  the  south,  but  she  is  evidently  drift- 
ing fast  towards  the  land.  I  see,  though,  she  has 
got  some  after-sail  set  on  the  stump  of  the  mizen- 
mast,  and  I  think  I  understand  it;  she  wishes  to 
weather  the  reef,  and  of  course  after  that  take  shel- 
ter in  the  bay.  Yes,  yes,  that  is  clearly  her  object; 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  285 

she  is  struggling  bravely  with  the  seas,  but  oh,  in 
what  fearful  peril  she  is  placed." 

The  ladies  immediately  ordered  their  horses  round, 
proposing  to  watch  the  progress  of  the  ship  from 
the  cliffs.  "I  daresay  that  Mr.  Finlayson  will  not 
object  to  come  with  us  at  once,"  said  Lady  Sophy, 
and  she  left  the  room  in  search  of  him. 

"Willingly,  my  dear  young  lady,"  he  answered; 
"you  will  find  that  I  am  no  despicable  cavalier 
when  once  I  am  in  the  saddle." 

The  party  were  soon  mounted  and  cantering 
across  the  downs  in  the  direction  of  the  strug- 
gling ship.  Mr.  Finlayson  was  much  les's  acquainted 
with  nautical  affairs  than  were  his  fair  companions, 
still  he  knew  enough  to  be  aware  that  the  ship  was 
in  great  danger.  The  wind  prevented  them  from 
making  rapid  progress  along  the  downs,  although 
they  urged  on  their  steeds  as  fast  as  they  could  go, 
anxious  to  meet  some  one  who  could  give  them 
further  information  about  the  ship.  They  deter- 
mined to  go  on  till  they  reached  the  widow's  hut, 
as  they  knew  that,  should  her  brother  be  there, 
as  he  had  promised  to  be,  they  would  learn  more 
from  him  than  from  anybody  else  as  to  the  pro- 
bability of  the  ship  escaping  destruction  on  the 
dangerous  reef  towards  which  she  appeared  to  be 
drawing.  Still  they  hoped  against  hope,  that  she 


286  Shore  and  Ocean. 

might  struggle  on  and  escape.  As  they  approached 
the  end  of  the  cliff  above  Widow  O'Neil's  cottage, 
they  recognized  her  standing  on  a  high  projecting 
point  of  land,  gazing  towards  the  ship.  Her  actions 
gave  them  the  idea  that  she,  like  poor  Kathleen, 
had  lost  her  senses.  Wildly  she  waved  her  arm, 
sometimes  clasping  her  hands,  raising  them  towards 
heaven;  then,  again,  she  stretched  them  over  the 
ocean.  As  the  ladies  and  Mr.  Finlayson  rode  up 
to  her,  words  of  prayer  were  escaping  from  her  lips. 

"What  is  the  matter,  Mistress  O'Neil?"  asked 
Sophy,  riding  up  to  her.  "Why  are  you  thus  agi- 
tated this  morning?" 

"  It  is  on  account  of  a  dream  I  had  last  night,"  she 
answered.  "That  is  no  wonder,  though,  for  every 
night  as  I  lie  on  my  bed  I  dream  that  my  boy  is  com- 
ing back  to  me,  though  when  I  am  about  to  clasp  him 
to  my  heart  he  escapes  away  again;  but  last  night  I 
dreamed  that  he  really  had  come  back,  and  there  he 
was  lying  in  my  arms,  just  as  he  was  when  an  infant 
and  smiling  in  my  face.  He  must  come  back  soon, 
too,  for  I  am  getting  old,  very  old,  and  oh,  he  will 
scarcely  know  me  now !  There  is  not  much  time  to 
lose;  but  he  will  come;  yes,  my  lady,  I  know  that 
he  will  come.  He  will  not  be  as  young  and  beauti- 
ful, and  strong,  and  happy  as  he  was  when  he  went 
away,  so  many,  many  years  ago, — I  know  not  how 


WIDOW    O'NKII,    ON    THK    C'T,IFF. 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  287 

many;  I  have  lost  all  count  of  them.  Oh,  they  have 
been  years  of  grief  and  mourning  to  me — sad,  sad 
years;  but  such  have  been  the  years  of  my  life  since 
one  I  loved  was  taken  from  me.  Ah,  if  you  had 
known  him,  ladies,  you  would  have  said  I  had  reason 
to  love  him:  and  now,  my  boy,  my  only  boy,  to  have 
been  thus  long  kept  from  me  !  But  he  is  coming  back, 
ladies.  I  tell  you,  I  dreamed  last  night  that  he  was 
coming  back;  and  suppose  he  was  to  be  on  board  yon- 
der ship !  Ah,  but  I  feel  sure  that  he  cannot  be,  for 
she  will  strike  on  yonder  dark  reef,  and  soon  be  a 
shattered  wreck,  to  which  no  human  being  could  cling 
and  live.  See  how  fiercely  the  seas  roll  in,  and  dash 
furiously  over  it  !  See,  see  how  the  brave  frigate  is 
drifting  faster  and  faster  towards  the  land  !  When  I 
first  saw  her  this  morning  she  was  a  good  two  leagues 
away,  and  now  there  is  not  a  quarter  of  a  league  be- 
tween her  and  that  rocky  point.  If  once  she  strikes 
upon  it,  few  of  her  sturdy  crew  will  ever  come  ashore 
alive.  Few,  do  I  say?  none,  none  can  live  amid  those 
breakers.  Oh,  Heaven  protect  them  ! " 

In  spite  of  the  strong  gale  which  blew  round  them, 
neither  the  ladies  nor  Mr.  Finlayson  could  tear  them- 
selves from  the  spot  where  they  stood,  it  being  the 
best  situation  they  could  reach  for  watching  the 
progress  of  the  labouring  frigate. 


CHAPTER  XXL 

T  T  7"E  must  for  a  time  follow  the  fortunes  of  Charles 
Denham.  Those  were  days  of  rapid  pro- 
motion, when  an  officer's  name  stood  well  at  the 
Admiralty.  The  young  commander  had  not  long 
served  his  time  on  board  the  corvette  before  he  re- 
ceived his  post  rank.  Scarcely  twelve  years  had 
passed  since  he  first  stepped  on  board  a  man-of-war 
as  a  young  seaman  before  the  mast,  when  he  found 
himself  in  command  of  a  fine  frigate  of  thirty-six 
guns — the  Isabel.  Ned  Davis,  who  had  followed 
him  into  every  ship  in  which  he  served,  now,  by  his 
advice,  having  applied  for  a  warrant,  was  appointed 
boatswain  to  the  Isabel.  Although  Denham  had 
attained  what  might  be  considered  the  height  of  his 
ambition,  he  hoped  while  in  command  of  the  frigate, 
to  make  a  still  higher  name  for  himself.  Opportuni- 
ties of  doing  so  were  not  likely  to  be  wanting.  Eng- 
land had  enemies  in  all  directions,  and  there  was 
every  probability  that  a  fine  dashing  frigate  like  the 
Isabel  would  soon  meet  with  a  foe  well  worthy  of 


The  Heir  of  Kit 'finnan.  289 

her.  She  was,  however,  much  to  the  disappoint- 
ment of  her  commander  and  crew,  sent  to  the  Med- 
iterranean, which,  by  that  time,  had  been  pretty  well 
cleared  of  all  England's  enemies.  There  was  work 
however,  to  be  done,  and  whatever  Denham  was 
ordered  to  do  he  performed  it  well.  Having,  at 
length,  come  home  with  despatches,  he  was  sent  to 
the  West  Indies,  where  he  had  already  seen  a  good 
deal  of  service. 

During  this  time  he  had  few  opportunities  of 
hearing  from  the  Earl  of  Kilfinnan,  to  whom,  how- 
ever he  occasionally  wrote,  and  got  a  kind  answer 
in  return.  Again,  after  nearly  four  years'  service, 
he  was  on  his  way  home.  When  about  three  parts 
across  the  Atlantic,  the  weather  for  some  time 
before  having  been  very  bad,  a  ship  was  reported 
right  ahead.  As  the  frigate  approached  her,  she 
was  seen  to  have  her  ensign  downwards,  as  a  signal 
of  distress.  She  appeared  to  be  a  large  merchant- 
man. Her  topmasts  were  gone,  and  she  had,  in 
other  ways,  evidently  suffered  from  the  heavy 
weather.  As  soon  as  the  frigate  drew  near  enough, 
she  was  hove  to,  and  a  boat  being  lowered,  she  was 
sent  on  board  the  stranger.  As  the  officer  in  com- 
mand of  the  boat  stepped  on  board  the  ship,  he  was 
struck  by  the  fearful  appearance  it  presented.  A 
few  of  the  crew,  pale  and  emaciated,  were  dragging 
19 


290  Shore  and  Ocean. 

themselves  about  the  deck,  scarcely  able  to  stand 
upright,  while  on  mattresses  placed  close  to  the 
bulwarks  were  numerous  human  beings,  some  appa- 
rently dead,  others  dying,  moaning  fearfully  and  in 
plaintive  voices,  petitioning  for  water. 

It  was  a  long  time  before  the  lieutenant  could 
get  any  one  to  explain  what  had  happened.  The 
captain,  it  appeared,  had  died,  and  so  had  most 
of  the  officers  and  passengers.  Their  bodies  had 
been  thrown  overboard.  Great  was  his  horror  when 
he  at  length  ascertained  that  they  were  suffering 
from  the  yellow  fever.  The  weather  was  very  hot, 
and  it  was  but  too  likely  even  that  this  short  visit 
to  the  pest-infested  ship  might  cause  him  to  con- 
vey it  to  the  crew  of  the  frigate.  What,  however, 
was  to  be  done  ?  He  could  not  leave  the  unfortu- 
nate people  on  board  the  merchantman  to  perish 
by  themselves,  without  help;  while,  should  he  re- 
main, he  and  those  with  him  might  catch  the  same 
complaint.  He  found  on  inquiry  that  several  per- 
sons were  down  below  who  had  hitherto  escaped 
the  pestilence  At  length,  uncertain  how  to  act, 
he  returned  on  board  the  Isabel,  to  receive  in- 
structions from  his  captain.  The  surgeon  of  the 
frigate  was  of  opinion  that  the  only  safe  plan  was 
thoroughly  to  fumigate  the  vessel,  and  put  a  prize 
crew  on  board,  to  navigate  her  to  an  English  port, 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  291 

as  it  would  be  unsafe  to  take  any  of  the  people  out 
of  her.  This  plan  was  followed,  and  an  officer  with 
twelve  men  went  on  board  to  carry  the  ship  to 
Bristol. 

It  was  hoped  that  from  the  short  time  the  lieu- 
tenant and  his  men  were  on  board  no  infection 
could  have  been  conveyed  from  her  to  the  frigate. 
Before  two  days,  however,  had  passed  these  hopes 
were  found  to  be  fallacious.  Two  of  the  men  who 
had  been  on  board  the  merchantman  were  seized 
with  the  fearful  complaint,  and  the  following  day 
were  corpses.  Several  others  in  the  course  of  a 
few  hours  were  seized  in  the  same  manner.  Their 
illnesses  in  each  case  terminated  fatally.  As  is 
often  the  case,  a  panic  seized  the  whole  crew,  and 
the  men  who  would  have  faced  an  enemy  boldly, 
trembled  at  the  thoughts  of  the  attacks  of  this  un- 
seen foe.  The  captain  and  officers  had  tried  to 
encourage  them  and  revive  their  spirits;  but  all 
seemed  in  vain.  Not  a  day  passed  without  several 
of  the  men  being  committed  to  the  deep,  and  no 
one  knew  who  would  be  the  next  victim.  Ths 
surgeon  declared  his  belief  that  the  seeds  of  the 
disease  must  have  been  contracted  in  the  West 
Indies,  as  it  was  impossible  it  could  have  been 
communicated  by  the  people  of  the  merchantman. 

"  Let  the  cause  be  what  it  may,  the  best  hope  we 


292  Shore  and  Ocean. 

have  of  getting  free  of  the  fever  is  to  meet  an  enemy 
of  equal  size  to  ourselves ;  and,  then,  while  we  are 
fighting  him,  I  have  no  doubt  that  'Yellow  Jack' 
will  take  to  flight,"  observed  the  captain. 

At  length  a  breeze  sprang  up,  and  although  the 
disease  had  not  altogether  ceased,  it  had  consider- 
ably decreased.  A  sharp  look-out  was  kept  at  all 
hours  for  any  sail  which  might  appear  on  the  hori- 
zon. At  length  one  was  observed  in  the  south- 
west, and  all  sail  was  made  in  chase.  For  some 
time  probably  the  Isabel  was  not  seen  by  the  ves- 
sel she  was  chasing.  The  latter,  however,  was  at 
length  seen  to  make  sail,  and  to  stand  away  to  the 
west.  The  Isabel  was  a  fast  vessel,  and  every  effort 
was  now  made  to  increase  her  speed.  The  sails 
were  wetted,  every  stitch  of  canvas  she  could  carry 
was  set,  and  every  other  device  adopted  to  urge  her 
through  the  water. 

In  those  days  the  engagements  which  had  taken 
place  between  English  and  French  ships  had  termi- 
nated in  most  instances  so  disastrously  to  the  lat- 
ter, that  Napoleon,  it  was  said,  had  ordered  all  his 
cruisers  to  avoid  fighting  if  they  possibly  could. 
This  might  have  accounted  for  the  flight  of  the 
stranger ;  for  as  the  Isabel  drew  nearer,  she  was  dis- 
covered to  be  either  a  heavy  frigate  or  a  line-of- 
battle  ship.  On  a  still  nearer  approach  the  French 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  293 

ensign  flew  out  from  her  peak,  and  it  was  ascer- 
tained, without  doubt,  that  she  was  a  large  frigate, 
a  worthy  antagonist  for  the  Isabel.  Superior  as  the 
enemy  might  be  in  guns  and  in  number  of  men,  Cap- 
tain Denham  resolved  to  attack  her.  The  engage- 
ment he  knew  would  be  a  severe  one;  but  he  trusted 
for  victory  to  the  tried  gallantry  of  his  officers  and 
crew,  and  the  resolution  with  which  they  would 
work  the  guns.  He  had  the  weather-gauge,  and  he 
hoped  by  skilful  manoeuvring  to  retain  it.  The  en- 
emy finding  she  could  not  escape,  now  hauled  up 
her  courses,  and  made  every  preparation  for  battle. 
The  Isabel,  when  she  drew  near  enough,  at  once 
opened  fire  to  cripple  her  antagonist,  and  to  retain 
the  position  she  now  enjoyed.  This  first  broadside 
considerably  cut  up  the  Frenchman's  rigging ;  but 
the  fire  the  Isabel  received  in  return  did  her  still 
greater  damage,  badly  wounding  the  fore-topmast. 
Davis  went  aloft  to  examine  it,  and  reported  on  his 
return  that  he  feared  it  would  not  stand  much  lon- 
ger. Both  the  frigates  now  standing  on  a  wind, 
continued  to  exchange  broadsides;  the  English  fir- 
ing at  the  hull  of  their  antagonist,  while  the 
Frenchman  seemed  to  aim  more  particularly  at  cut- 
ting up  the  masts  and  rigging  of  the  English 
ship. 

"  She  seems  to  be  full  of  men,  and  I  suspect  her 


294  Shore  and  Ocean. 

object  is  to  get  alongside,  and  to  take  us  by  board- 
ing," observed  the  captain  to  his  first  lieutenant. 

"We  will  show  them  what  British  steel  can  do, 
if  they  make  the  attempt,  sir,"  was  the  answer. 

The  Frenchman  attempted  to  luff  across  the  Eng- 
lish ship's  bow,  in  the  hopes  of  raking  her,  but  Den- 
ham  was  too  much  on  the  watch  to  allow  her  to 
execute  this  manoeuvre  successfully.  A  consider- 
able number  of  the  Isabel's  men  had  been  killed. 
Still,  her  crew  fought  on  with  undaunted  courage. 
At  length,  her  fore-topmast,  which  had  before  been 
severely  injured  by  a  chain  shot,  came  down  with 
a  crash  upon  the  deck.  The  Frenchmen  shouted 
when  they  saw  this,  and  another  shout  escaped 
them  when  they  saw  the  main-topmast  follow  the 
fate  of  the  other  mast. 

"  If  they  attempt  to  run  us  on  board  we  will  try 
to  secure  them,  as  we  did  in  the  Cynthia"  observed 
the  captain.  "If  we  let  a  few  of  the  Frenchmen 
come  on  board,  we  can  quickly  dispose  of  them,  and 
then  return  the  compliment." 

"Ay,  ay,  sir,"  answered  the  lieutenant;  "I  will 
give  the  order  to  the  men  to  prepare  for  boarding. 
They  are  ready  enough  for  it." 

Scarcely  had  he  spoken,  when  the  French  frigate, 
luffing  up  ran  her  bows  against  the  quarter  of  the 
Isabel.  She  was  immediately  secured  there  by  Da- 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  295 

vis  and  others;  and  the  Frenchmen  came  rushing 
over  the  bows,  expecting  to  make  her  an  easy  prize. 

"Boarders,  rebel  boarders,"  shouted  the  first  lieu- 
tenant. 

"I  will  lead   you,  my  men,"  cried  the  captain, 
springing  to  the  side. 

A  few  Frenchmen  who  had  gained  the  deck  of 
the  Isabel  were  immediately  cut  down;  and  now 
the  English  in  turn  swarmed  over  the  enemy's 
bows.  In  spite  of  all  opposition,  they  worked  their 
way  aft.  No  power  seemed  capable  of  resisting 
them.  Although  the  Frenchmen  for  some  time 
stood  their  ground,  they  were  driven  back.  Step 
by  step  the  British  blue-jackets  fought  their  way, 
and  numbers  sank  before  the  sturdy  blows  of  their 
cutlasses.  Many  of  the  Frenchmen  were  armed 
with  pistols,  by  which  several  of  the  English  were 
wounded.  During  this  time  Davis  had  ever  kept 
close  by  the  side  of  his  commander.  Captain  Den- 
ham  was  leading  on  his  men,  when  suddenly  his 
cutlass  dropped  from  his  hand,  and  he  would  have 
fallen  had  not  Davis  supported  him.  At  the  same 
moment,  a  tall  Frenchman,  with  uplifted  cutlass, 
was  in  the  act  of  bringing  it  down  upon  his  head, 
when  Davis,  bringing  his  own  weapon  to  the  guard, 
saved  his  captain,  and  with  a  return  cut  sent  the 
Frenchman  reeling  backwards. 


296  Shore  and  Ocean. 

"On,  my  lads,  on,"  shouted  the  captain,  again  ris- 
ing to  his  feet.  "Though  I  cannot  use  my  sword, 
you  can  keep  yours  going  instead." 

The  energy  with  which  he  spoke  was  infused  into 
his  followers,  and  pushing  onward  they  drove  the 
Frenchmen  before  them.  The  Frenchmen,  encour- 
aged by  their  officers,  attempted  to  rally;  but  no 
sooner  had  they  done  so,  than,  led  by  their  gallant 
captain,  the  English  made  another  dash  forward,  and 
again  drove  them  back.  Meantime,  the  weather  had 
been  changing,  and  the  moderate  breeze  which  had 
hitherto  been  blowing,  was  followed  by  a  heavy  gale. 
Although  the  Isabel  was  well-nigh  dismantled,  she 
was  still  more  than  a  match  for  her  opponent.  In  a 
short  time,  numbers  of  the  Frenchmen  having  fall- 
en, an  officer  was  seen  to  run  aft  and  haul  down  the 
French  flag.  The  prize  was  won.  She  mounted  four 
more  guns  than  did  the  Isabel,  with  a  far  more  nu- 
merous crew.  The  prospect  of  bad  weather  made  it 
necessary  at  once  to  send  a  prize  crew  on  board  the 
captured  frigate,  and  tp  remove  the  greater  part  of 
her  own  people,  so  that  a  few  Frenchmen  only  were 
left  on  board.  Great  was  the  delight  of  the  crew  at 
finding,  from  the  report  of  the  surgeon,  that  their 
captain's  wound  was  not  likely  to  prove  serious, 
though  his  arm  might  be  disabled  for  some  time. 

The  second  lieutenant  was  ordered  on  board  to 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  297 

carry  the  prize  into  Plymouth,  she  having  suffered  but 
little  damage  in  her  rigging,  while  her  captor  was  in 
a  far  worse  condition.  Some  time  was  occupied  in 
clearing  away  the  wreck  of  the  topmasts,  and  once 
more  getting  the  ship  into  order.  The  gale,  however, 
fearfully  increased,  and  the  frigate  in  an  almost  help- 
less condition,  having  lost  sight  of  her  prize,  was 
driven  towards  the  coast  of  Ireland.  Happily,  the 
yellow  fever  had  completely  disappeared;  but  Cap- 
tain Denham  had  another  cause  of  anxiety,  lest  his 
ship  might  be  driven  on  that  rocky  shore  on  which 
so  many  a  fine  vessel  has  been  lost.  He  anxiously 
looked  out,  therefore,  for  signs  of  the  gale  breaking, 
and  that  he  might  be  able  once  more  to  make  sail  and 
beat  offshore.  His  hopes,  however,  seemed  likely  to 
prove  vain.  The  morning  dawned,  and  far  away  to 
the  east  as  the  eye  could  stretch,  appeared  the  high 
land  of  the  Irish  coast.  He  had  hoped  to  have 
hauled  up  sufficiently  to  have  weathered  Cape  Clear. 
The  gale  continued  till  the  frigate  was  close  in 
with  the  coast.  Shipwreck  now  seemed  inevitable, 
for  no  other  sail  could  be  set  to  enable  her  to 
beat  off  shore.  There  was  a  bay  to  the  south, 
but  that  would  now  afford  no  shelter,  and  no  other 
harbour  was  open  to  her.  It  seemed  impossible 
that  she  could  be  saved.  One  only  resource  re- 
mained, to  anchor  and  cut  away  the  masts.  Orders 


298  Shore  and  Ocean. 

were,  therefore,  given  to  prepare  for  this  last  alter- 
native. The  cables  were  ranged  along  the  deck, 
and  spare  anchors  got  up  from  below.  The  dark 
seas  came  rolling  in  with  unabated  force  from  the 
west,  while  they  broke  with  terrific  force  on  the 
rocky  shore  under  her  lee.  The  spray  dashed  over 
her  bows,  flying  fore  and  aft  as  she  forced  her  way 
gallantly  through  the  seas.  The  gale  still  contin- 
ued with  unabated  force.  Masses  of  clouds  came 
rushing  by  overhead,  rapidly  succeeding  each  other, 
while  under  her  lee-bow  appeared  a  long  reef  of 
rocks,  the  dangers  of  which  were  well  known  to 
many  on  board.  Still,  hopes  were  entertained  that 
she  might  be  able  to  weather  it.  The  eyes  of  the 
master  and  other  officers,  indeed  of  most  on  board, 
were  turned  now  seaward,  now  to  the  rocky  shore, 
and  now  to  the  reef  on  the  lee  beam.  There 
seemed  to  all  but  little  prospect,  unless  by  a  sud- 
den change  of  wind,  of  being  able  to  weather  the 
latter. 

"  She  would  not  stay  if  we  were  to  attempt  to 
go  about,"  observed  the  first  lieutenant, . "  and  there 
is  no  room  to  wear,  or  it  might  be  better  if  we 
were  upon  the  other  tack,  so  as  to  escape  yonder 
threatening  reef." 

"We  may  possibly  weather  the  reef,"  observed 
the  master;  "but  if  we  were  to  attempt  either  to 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  299 

stay  or  to  wear,  we  should  inevitably  be  driven 
upon  the  rocks." 

Several  of  the  best  hands  were  at  the  helm, 
watching  for  the  directions  of  the  master.  Some- 
times, after  a  slight  shift  in  the  wind,  hopes  were 
entertained  that  the  reef  might  be  escaped;  but 
then,  again,  it  was  found  she  was  making  so  much 
leeway  that  even  this  slight  hope  was  abandoned. 
Onward  she  rushed  to  her  inevitable  destruction, 
it  seemed.  Meantime,  the  wounded  commander 
had  been  lying  in  his  cot.  Several  times  he  had 
desired  to  be  carried  on  deck,  but  the  surgeon, 
who  sat  by  his  side,  entreated  him  to  stop  where 
he  was,  fearing  the  excitement  would  be  too  great, 
and  that  his  wounds,  which  had  hitherto  been  going 
on  favourably,  might  take  a  turn  for  the  worse. 

"Then  send  the  master  to  me,"  he  said,  "that 
I  may  learn  the  exact  position  of  the  ship." 

The  master  made  his  appearance. 

"  I  wish  she  was  in  a  better  position  than  she  is, 
sir,"  he  observed;  "but  we  are  doing  all  that  men 
can  do  to  claw  offshore,  and  if  we  had  had  our  top- 
masts, there  would  have  been  no  difficulty  about  the 
matter.  She  makes  fearful  leeway,  and  there  is  an 
ugly  reef  ahead,  which  I  do  not  altogether  like;  but 
I  have  been  in  as  bad  a  case  before  and  escaped, 
and  I  pray  Heaven  we  may  get  clear  this  time." 


300  Shore  and  Ocean. 

"  Doctor,  you  must  let  me  go  on  deck,  that  I 
may  see  the  worst.  It  is  torture  to  lie  here  below," 
exclaimed  the  wounded  captain. 

"But  the  master  says,  sir,  that  we  have  a  pros- 
pect of  hauling  off  shore,  and  I  again  repeat  that 
you  would  only  incur  great  danger  by  exposing 
yourself  to  the  cold  wind  and  spray  that  you  would 
have  to  encounter.  No,  no,  sir;  stay  where  you  are, 
and  let  us  hope  for  the  best." 

Many  more  anxious  minutes  passed.  The  master 
returned  to  his  duty  on  deck,  and  the  captain, 
having  full  confidence  in  his  judgment,  would  not 
again  send  for  him.  . 

"Come,  doctor,  there  are  many  poor  fellows 
want  your  aid  besides  me;  go  and  look  after  them, 
I  entreat  you,"  he  said  at  length.  "They  will 
give  me  notice  in  time  enough  when  all  hope  is 
gone,  or,  I  trust,  I  may  soon  hear  that  the  ship 
has  weathered  the  reef,  and  has  brought  up  in  the 
bay." 

Scarcely  had  he  spoken  when  a  loud  roar  of 
breakers  reached  even  to  where  he  lay.  A  cry  arose 
on  deck,  and  the  next  instant  there  came  a  fearful 
crash.  The  frigate  had  struck  on  the  reef.  The 
captain  was  endeavouring  to  rise  from  his  cot,  when 
Davis  rushed  into  the  cabin. 

"It  is  a  bad  case,  captain  ! "  he  exclaimed;  "but 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  301 

while  I  have  life,  you  know  I  will  stay  by  you.  We 
are  not  far  from  the  shore,  and  maybe,  if  the  ship 
goes  to  pieces,  some  plank  or  timber  may  carry  us 
there  in  safety." 

Denham  allowed  himself  to  be  carried  on  deck, 
where  Davis  secured  him  to  the  only  portion  of  the 
wreck  over  which  the  sea  did  not  break.  The  cap- 
tain gazed  around.  The  ship  had  struck  upon  the 
much-dreaded  reef.  Huge  seas  came  rolling  in, 
and,  dashing  against  her  with  terrific  force,  had  al- 
ready begun  to  tear  away  her  upper  works,  and  it 
was  evident  she  .could  not  long  remain  in  that  posi- 
tion without  going  speedily  to  pieces.  Many  of  the 
crew  had  already  been  washed  away;  others  were 
clinging  to  different  parts  of  the  wreck.  Some,  in- 
cluding the  officers,  were  endeavouring,  not  far  from 
the  captain,  to  form  a  raft,  on  which  they  hoped  to 
reach  the  shore.  It  appeared,  however,  very  doubt- 
ful whether  they  would  succeed. 

"Let  us  chance  it,  sir,"  said  Davis;  "I. will  haul 
a  grating  here,  and  put  you  on  it.  Maybe,  we  shall 
be  safely  washed  on  shore." 

"No,  no,  Davis,"  answered  the  captain  faintly; 
"  you  remember  how  the  brave  Dutchman  behaved 
when  his  ship  was  sinking.  As  long  as  two  planks 
hold  together  I  will  stay  by  the  frigate,  or  till 
every  one  has  left  her.  You  go,  my  friend;  you  are 


302  Shore  and  Ocean. 

strong  and  unhurt,  and,  God  protecting  you,  you 
may  still  save  your  own  life." 

"  What  ?  leave  you,  sir  ?  leave  you,  Captain  Den- 
ham  ?  "  exclaimed  Davis.  "  I  have  not  sailed  with 
you  for  so  many  years  to  act  thus  at  last.  We 
swim  or  sink  together.  I  have  never  feared  death, 
and  he  is  not  now  going  to  make  me  do  a  cowardly 
act." 

"Well,  well,  Davis,  I  fear  there  is  no  use  urging 
you.  Perhaps,  too,  we  run  as  little  risk  here  as  we 
should  struggling  in  those  boiling  seas,"  said  the 
captain. 

"Right,  sir;  the  frigate  is  new  and  strong,  and 
maybe  she  will  hold  together  until  the  gale  some- 
what abates,"  answered  the  boatswain.  "  I  wish 
those  poor  fellows  would  stay  on  board  with  us; 
it  might  be  the  better  for  them." 

"  I  would  not  order  them  to  stay,  Davis,"  answered 
the  captain.  "  These  seas,  if  they  continue  long, 
must  break  up  the  stoutest  ship,  and  it  is  a  fearful 
thing  to  have  to  struggle  among  floating  timbers, 
washed  about  round  such  rocks  as  these." 

While  they  were  speaking,  many  of  the  crew, 
clinging  to  spars  and  planks,  were  seen  drifting 
towards  the  shore.  Few,  however,  appeared  to  reach 
it.  Some,  exhausted  by  their  exertions,  let  go  their 
hold  and  sank.  Others  were  cast  upon  the  reef, 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  303 

mangled  fearfully  by  the  timbers  which  were  thrown 
upon  them.  The  rest,  meantime,  continued  to  work 
at  the  raft.  The  surviving  officers  then  came  to  the 
captain,  and  urged  him  to  allow  them  to  place  him 
upon  it,  but  he  remained  firm  to  his  resolution. 

"No,  no,"  he  answered;  "do  you  leave  the  ship 
as  you  think  best;  but  she  was  placed  under  my 
command,  and  nothing  shall  induce  me  to  desert 
her  as  long  as  she  holds  together." 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

TV  /JR.  FINLAYSON  and  the  two  young  ladies 
stood  watching  the  progress  of  the  labour- 
ing frigate. 

"Heaven  have  mercy  on  them,"  exclaimed  the 
Widow  O'Neil,  extending  her  clasped  hands  to- 
wards the  ship.  "See,  see,  she  draws  towards  the 
reef !  No  hope  !  no  hope  !  She  has  struck !  she 
has  struck ! " 

The  fish-wife  spoke  but  too  truly.  Fearful  seas 
came  rolling  in,  and,  meeting  with  an  opposition 
not  hitherto  encountered,  dashed  in  huge  masses 
directly  over  her.  In  another  instant,  the  foremast, 
hitherto  standing,  tottered  and  fell.  Stout  as  were 
her  timbers,  unable  to  resist  such  fierce  assaults, 
they  were  in  a  brief  space  burst  asunder,  and  scat- 
tered around  in  the  troubled  sea.  A  cry  of  horror 
escaped  the  young  ladies  as  they  witnessed  the 
fearful  catastrophe. 

"Oh,  how  many  brave  men  are  at  this  moment 
carried  into  a  watery  grave!"  cried  Lady  Sophy. 
Nora  was  silent.  A  fearful  apprehension  seized  her. 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  305 

"The  last  time  we  heard  from  Captain  Denham, 
he  told  us  that  he  was  appointed  to  a  frigate  !  "  she 
exclaimed  suddenly.  "  Oh,  suppose  that  is  the  ship 
he  commands?" 

"Can  no  one  go  to  the  help  of  those  poor  men?" 
asked  Mr.  Finlayson.  "  Surely  there  are  boats  on 
the  coast  which  might  go  off  to  them  ! " 

The  fish-wife  turned  as  he  spoke. 

"There  are  boats,  sir,  but  it  would  be  hard  to 
find  the  men  who  would  venture  off  in  such  a  sea 
as  that;  but  if,  as  I  believe,  the  wind  is  falling, 
there  is  yet  some  hope;  if  it  goes  down  as  rapidly 
as  it  sometimes  does  in  summer,  frail  as  are  our 
boats,  we  may  be  able  to  reach  the  frigate." 

The  ship  was  too  far  off  for  those  on  shore  to 
witness  the  dying  struggles  of  those  who  were 
washed  into  the  sea,  but  yet  they  could  not  tear 
themselves  from  the  spot.  Gradually  the  gale 
abated,  seemingly  contented  with  the  mischief  it 
had  caused.  Still,  however,  the  seas  rolled  in  with 
fearful  force.  Suddenly  a  thought  seemed  to  seize 
Widow  O'Neil. 

"  I  must  go,  I  must  go  !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  If  no 
men  are  to  be  found,  I,  at  least,  will  go  off!' 

"Why,  you  would  not  venture  out  in  such  a  sea 
as  that  ? "  cried  Mr.  Finlayson,  calling  after  her  as 
she  began  to  descend  the  cliffs. 
20 


306  Shore  and  Ocean. 

"  That  I  will,  sir,  and  go  alone  if  no  men  will 
accompany  me." 

From  the  position  of  the  coast  in  which  the  cot- 
tage was  situated,  it  was  easy  to  launch  a  boat, 
although  the  sea  was  agitated  outside.  On  reach- 
ing her  hut,  the  widow  found  her  brother  Shane 
standing  outside  it. 

"Shane,"  she  exclaimed,  "you  promised  to  stand 
by  me  on  all  occasions,  now  prove  your  words.  I 
am  resolved  to  go  out  to  yonder  vessel ;  there  may 
be  some  alive  on  board.  My  heart  tells  me  there 
are,  and  we  must  save  them.  O  stir  up  some  of  the 
other  men,  and  bid  them  follow  us,  if  they  are 
worthy  of  the  name  of  men." 

"  I  would  go  with  you,  sister,"  answered  Shane, 
"  if  I  could  get  others  to  go,  but  they  will  not  raise 
a  finger  to  save  any  on  board  a  king's  ship." 

"  But  sure,  they  are  our  fellow-creatures,  brother 
Shane,"  exclaimed  the  fish-wife.  "  Shame  on  the 
cowards  if  they  dare  not  come,  and  shame  on  you, 
brother,  if  you  will  not  help  me.  Listen  now ;  I 
dreamed  last  night  that  he  who  has  been  so  long 
away  is  coming  back.  It  is  not  the  first  time  I 
have  dreamed  it  either,  and  you  may  say  if  you  will, 
that  this  is  only  another  fancy,  but  my  days  are 
numbered,  and  I  know  that  before  I  die  he  will 
come  back ;  he  promised,  and  Dermot  was  not  the 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  307 

boy  to  break  his  word.  Come,  Shane,  come.  Look, 
the  sea  has  gone  down,  and  you  and  I  with  your 
boy  Patrick,  though  he  may  have  less  sense  than 
other  lads,  will  go  off  to  the  ship." 

The  widow's  exhortations  made  Shane  promise  to 
accompany  her.  Her  boat  was  ill-fitted  for  the  task, 
yet  for  some  distance  they  could  pull  out  under  shel- 
ter of  a  point  which  projected  north  of  the  cove. 
As  the  wind  had  hauled  round  somewhat  more  to 
the  north  also,  it  might  be  possible  to  set  a  sail,  and 
with  less  difficulty  reach  the  frigate.  Patrick  was 
summoned,  and  with  his  father  and  the  fish-wife, 
the  boat  was  launched.  She  was  cleared  of  all  super- 
fluous lumber,  while  Shane  lashed  under  her  thwarts 
several  empty  casks,  which  would  assist  in  giving  her 
buoyancy.  It  was  a  simple  attempt  at  a  life-boat,  yet 
with  all  these  precautions,  the  old  fishing  craft  was 
but  ill-fitted  for  the  undertaking.  The  fish-wife  again 
and  again  urged  her  brother-  to  hasten  his  work,  so 
eager  was  she  to  reach  the  wreck.  At  length  the  boat 
was  ready.  The  boy  was  placed  at  the  helm,  and  the 
fish-wife  and  her  brother  took  the  oars.  They  pulled 
boldly  out  of  the  cove,  and  then  along  the  shore  for 
some  distance,  where  the  water  was  rather  smoother 
than  further  out.  Even  there,  however,  the  exertion 
was  considerable,  and  those  who  looked  on  from 
above  dreaded  every  moment:  to  see  the  frail  skiff 


308  Shore  and  Ocean. 

overturned  by  the  rough  seas.  Now,  however,  the 
head  of  the  boat  was  turned  seaward.  Shane  and 
his  sister  increased  their  exertions.  Often  the  waters 
broke  on  board,  when  Patrick,  steering  with  one  hand, 
bailed  it  out  with  the  other;  still  they  continued  their 
course.  At  length  they  succeeded  in  gaining  a  con- 
siderable distance  from  the  shore,  when  the  seas,  as  is 
sometimes  the  case,  came  with  less  force,  and  gradu- 
ally sank  in  height.  There  was  only  one  point  where 
they  could  approach  the  wreck.  Just  within  sight  was 
a  small  bay,  or  opening  in  the  reef;  the  seas  on  ev- 
ery other  side  were  dashing  over  the  frigate,  and 
would  have  immediately  overwhelmed  the  frail  boat. 
Bravely  they  rowed  on,  and  they  might  have  put  to 
shame  many  of  the  sturdy  men  who  had  collected  on 
the  shore.  Several  times  those  who  watched  the 
progress  of  the  boat  from  the  cliff  fancied  she  was 
overwhelmed.  Now  she  sank  into  the  trough  of  the 
sea,  and  the  huge  wave  seemed  about  to  dash  over  her. 
Again  rising  to  the  summit  of  a  foam-crested  wave, 
she  was  tossed  for  a  few  seconds  ere  she  plunged  into 
the  watery  vale  below.  More  than  once  Shane  pro- 
posed setting  a  sail,  but  the  widow  declared  that  her 
arms  were  still  strong  enough  to  pull  the  boat,  and 
that  it  would  considerably  prolong  the  time  before 
they  could  reach  the  wreck,  as  it  would  thus  be  im- 
possible to  make  a  straight  course.  She  seemed,  in- 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  309 

deed,  endued  with  super-human  strength,  for  even 
her  brother's  arms  began  to  fail  him.  Again  and 
again  she  urged  him  to  renewed  exertions,  with  a 
voice  tremulous  with  eagerness. 

"  We  shall  reach  the  ship  before  long — we  shall 
reach  the  ship,"  she  kept  exclaiming;  "row,  Shane, 
row.  Oh,  brother,  if  you  have  ever  loved  me,  do 
not  foil  me  now." 

Thus  they  continued  rowing  on.  Not  an  hour  be- 
fore it  would  have  been  impossible  for  the  boat  to 
have  made  any  progress;  now,  however,  by  the  sub- 
sidence of  the  gale,  the  undertaking,  though  difficult 
and  dangerous,  was  possible.  As  they  drew  near, 
even  now  several  struggling  forms  were  seen  in  the 
foaming  waters,  but  ere  they  could  reach  them,  one 
after  another  sank  beneath  the  waves.  A  few,  how- 
ever were  clinging  to  planks  and  spars,  but  the  widow 
refused  to  go  near  them;  it  might  have  proved  the  de- 
struction of  the  boat,  had  the  attempt  been  made. 

"They  are  floating,  and  will  in  time  reach  the 
shore,"  she  said  to  Shane,  "  or  if  the  sea  goes  down 
still  more,  we  may  return  to  pick  them  up.  There 
are  still  some  alive  on  board  the  ship;  even  just 
now,  I  saw  an  arm  waving.  Row  on,  row  on,  we 
may  yet  be  in  time — we  may  yet  be  in  time." 

The  larger  portion  of  the  wreck  had  before  this, 
however,  been  broken  up,  but  the  after-part  and 


3io  Shore  and  Ocean. 

the  starboard  side  of  the  quarter-deck  remained 
entire.  As  the  boat  approached  the  wreck,  broken 
planks  and  timbers  continued  to  be  washed  away, 
till  but  a  small  portion  appeared  to  remain. 

By  persevering  efforts,  the  boat,  however,  drew 
i  oarer  and  nearer,  avoiding,  though  not  without 
difficulty,  the  masses  of  wreck  which  floated  by. 
As  the  fish-wife  and  her  brother  looked  up,,  they 
saw  two  human  beings  still  clinging  to  the  remain- 
ing fragments  of  the  ship;  one  was  waving  his  hand 
as  if  to  urge  them  to  greater  speed.  No  other  hu- 
man beings  were  to  be  seen  on  board.  A  few  had 
just  before  apparently  committed  themselves  to  a 
raft,  and  with  this  support  were  now  approaching 
the  shore.  They  had,  however,  passed  at  some 
little  distance  from  the  boat.  Sea  after  sea  rolling 
in  dashed  against  the  wreck,  sometimes  the  spray 
almost  hiding  those  on  board  from  view.  Larger 
and  larger  portions  continued  to  give  way;  every  sea 
which  rolled  in  carried  off  the  timbers  or  more  planks 
f -om  the  sides.  The  boat  was  within  fifty  fathoms  or 
so  of  the  rocks,  Shane  looking  out  anxiously  for  any 
part  of  the  wreck  by  which  it  might  be  approached 
with  least  danger.  It  seemed  scarcely  possible  for 
them  to  get  near  enough  to  aid  those  on  board. 

"  I  fear,  sister,  we  shall  be  too  late,"  exclaimed 
Shane;  "even  now  yonder  sea  which  comes  in  looks 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  311 

as  if  it  were  about  to  tear  the  remainder  of  the 
wreck  to  fragments." 

With  a  thundering  sound  the  sea  he  pointed  at 
broke  against  the  wreck.  In  an  instant  the  re- 
maining masses  of  timber  gave  way,  and  were 
dashed  forward  into  the  boiling  sea. 

"Pull  on,  Shane,  pull  on,"  cried  the  widow.  "I 
see  two  men  still  struggling  in  the  waves;  one  is 
supporting  the  other,  and  guarding  him  from  the 
timbers  which  float  around." 

"  Which  timbers  may  stave  in  the  boat,  and 
drown  us  all,"  observed  Shane. 

"  No  matter,  Shane,  pull  on — pull  on;  let  us 
not  set  our  lives  against  those  of  the  brave  men 
who  are  floating  yonder.  What  matters  it  after  all 
if  we  are  lost  ?  Death  can  come  but  once  to  any 
of  us."  It  is  impossible  to  give  the  force  of  those 
words,  uttered,  as  they  were,  in  the  native  tongue 
of  the  Irish,  which  she  spoke.  "Pull  on,  Shane, 
pull  on,"  again  she  cried.  "  Boy,  steer  for  those 
men;  see,  they  are  still  floating  above  the  waves." 

In  spite  of  the  masses  of  timber,  which  appeared 
to  be  thrown  providentially  on  either  side,  the 
boat  approached  the  two  men,  who  still  floated 
above  the  water. 

"Save  him,  friends;  never  mind  me,"  said  a  voice 
as  they  lifted  the  person  he  supported,  and  who,  by 


312  Shore  and  Ocean. 

his  uniform  appeared  to  be  an  officer,  into  the  arms 
of  Shane,  he  himself  holding  on  to  the  gunnel  of 
the  boat.  The  officer  was  quickly  placed  in  the 
stern  sheets,  when  Shane  helped  his  companion  on 
board,  and  then  again  grasping  his  oar,  pulled  the 
boat  safely  round  before  the  sea  had  time  to  catch 
her  on  the  beam  and  overturn  her. 

The  seaman  hauled  out  of  the  water,  the  stimulus 
to  exertion  having  ceased,  sank  down  fainting  by 
the  side  of  his  officer.  The  danger  of  returning  was 
as  great  as  that  which  they  experienced  in  approach- 
ing the  wreck.  The  spray  flew  over  them,  and  it 
seemed  that  every  billowy  wave  would  overwhelm 
the  frail  bark.  All  this  time  they  were  watched 
eagerly  by  the  young  ladies  and  their  old  friend  from 
the  cliff  above.  On  the  boat  came;  now  a  vast  sea 
threatened  her  with  instant  destruction,  but  the  fish- 
wife and  her  brother,  rowing  till  the  stout  oars  bent 
with  their  exertions,  urged  on  their  boat  and 
escaped  the  danger.  Nearer  and  nearer  she  ap- 
proached the  shore;  now  a  huge  roller  came  thun- 
dering up  close  to  her  stern,  and  seemed  about  to 
turn  her  over  and  over,  but  it  broke  just  before  it 
reached  her,  and  by  vigorous  strokes,  forced  ahead, 
she  escaped  its  power.  In  another  instant  lifted  on 
a  foaming  sea,  she  glided  forward,  arriving  high  up 
on  the  sandy  beach  of  the  little  cove. 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  313 

;<  There  are  two  people  in  her,"  exclaimed  Nora, 
who  had  been  eagerly  watching  them.  "We  will 
go  down  and  help  them,  for  they  evidently  require 
assistance." 

;'  Those  two  poor  fellows  must  be  nearly  drowned," 
observed  Mr.  Finlayson,  as  he  accompanied  the  la- 
dies to  the  hut;  "  I  wish  we  had  a  medical  man  here, 
but  for  want  of  one,  I  must  take  his  place  and  pre- 
scribe for  them.  These  fishermen  are  more  likely  to 
kill  than  to  revive  them  by  their  rough  treatment. 
Come,  I  will  push  ahead  and  try  to  save  the  men 
before  they  press  the  breath  out  of  their  bodies." 
In  spite,  however,  of  the  active  movements  of  the 
lawyer,  the  young  ladies  kept  up  with  him  and  they 
arrived  in  front  of  the  cottage  just  as  Shane  and  his 
son,  aided  by  the  widow,  were  lifting  one  of  the 
men  they  had  saved  out  of  the  boat.  She  insisted 
on  taking  the  seaman  first,  and  not  till  she  had 
carried  him  up  and  placed  him  on  her  own  bed 
would  she  help  to  carry  the  other.  The  lawyer, 
however,  arrived  in  time  to  aid  Shane  in  carrying 
up  the  young  officer,  for  such  he  appeared  to  be. 
As  soon  as  they  arrived  at  the  hut,  the  apparently 
drowned  man  was  placed  by  Mr.  Jamieson's  orders 
in  front  of  the  fire,  then,  having  taken  off  his  coat, 
he  knelt  down  and  gently  rubbed  his  chest.  On 
the  arrival  of  the  young  ladies,  such  blankets  and 


314  Shore  and  Ocean. 

clothes  as  the  widow  possessed  were,  by  the  law- 
yer's directions,  placed  to  warm  before  the  fire,  that 
the  half-drowned  men  might  be  wrapped  in  them. 
No  sooner,  however,  did  Lady  Nora's  eyes  fall  on 
the  officer's  countenance,  than  she  uttered  an  agon- 
ized cry,  and  threw  herself  by  his  side. 

"  Oh,  it  is  Captain  Denham — it  is  Captain  Den- 
ham  !"  she  exclaimed,  "and  he  is  dead — he  is  dead." 
Pale  and  trembling  she  hung  over  him. 

"No,  my  dear  young  lady,"  observed  the  lawyer, 
"  he  is  still  breathing,  and  I  trust  that  he  will  soon 
recover, — I  already  indeed  see  signs  of  returning 
consciousness." 

While  Nora,  regardless  of  all  conventionalities, 
was  assisting  the  lawyer  and  her  cousin  in  rubbing 
the  captain's  hands  and  feet,  the  widow  was  bend- 
ing over  the  inanimate  form  of  the  seaman. 

"Shane,"  she  exclaimed,  "I  told  you  my  boy 
would  come  back,  and  here  he  is ;  I  feel  it,  I  know 
it.  Oh,  Dermot,  Dermot,  speak  to  me,"  she  ex- 
claimed. "  Do  not  die  now  that  you  have  come  as 
you  promised.  Surely  it  is  not  to  break  your  old 
mother's  heart  that  you  have  just  returned  to  die  in 
her  arms  ?  " 

Hearing  these  exclamations,  the  old  lawyer  turned 
round,  and  went  to  the  side  of  the  widow. 

"  You  will  be  wiser,  my  good  woman,  if  you  were 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  315 

to  place  some  hot  clothes  upon  his  chest,  and  chafe 
his  hands  and  feet,  instead  of  calling  out  in  that 
way.  There  is  no  fear  about  him ;  he  has  over-ex- 
erted himself,  and  his  immersion  in  salt  water  has 
for  the  time  deprived  him  of  his  senses ;  but  stay,  I 
see  you  have  a  kettle  boiling  on  the  hearth.  It  is 
time  now  to  pour  some  hot  whisky  and  water  down 
his  throat.  As  I  left  the  castle,  I  took  the  precau- 
tion of  putting  a  flask  into  my  pocket."  Saying 
this  the  kind  old  man  mixed  a  mug  of  spirits  and 
water,  which  he  at  once  applied  to  the  sailor's  lips. 
It  slipped  without  difficulty  down  his  throat.  The 
effect  was  almost  instantaneous  ;  he  opened  his  eyes 
and  looked  around  with  astonishment. 

"Dermot,  speak  to  me,  my  boy,  my  own  boy," 
exclaimed  the  widow  in  Irish,  as  she  threw  her  arms 
around  his  neck. 

"  What  does  she  say  ? "  he  asked,  in  a  faint  voice. 

"Dermot,  Dermot,  speak  to  me,"  she  again  ex- 
claimed, but  this  time  she  spoke  in  English. 

"That  is  not  my  name,  good  mother,"  answered 
the  seaman;  "you  must  be  mistaken;  I  am  not 
your  son.  I  never  was  in  these  parts  before  except 
once,  when  I  came  with  my  captain,  though  I  have 
often  enough  been  off  the  coast  with  him  and 
others." 

"Not  my  son— not  my  son,"  ejaculated  the  widow, 


316  Shore  and  Ocean. 

gazing  at  him,  and  putting  back  his  hair,  and  again 
looking  at  his  countenance.  "Oh,  how  have  I  been 
deceived,  and  do  you  again  say  that  your  name  is 
not  Dermot  O'Neil  ? "  exclaimed  the  widow,  wring- 
ing her  hands,  "and  I  thought  I  had  brought  my 
boy  safe  on  shore,  and  that  he  was  to  be  folded  once 
more  in  his  mother's  arms.  Oh,  Dermot  O'Neil— 
Dermot  O'Neil,  why  are  you  thus  keeping  so  long, 
long  away  from  the  mother  who  loves  you  more 
than  her  own  life  ? " 

The  young  officer,  who  by  this  time  had  been 
revived  by  the  application  of  the  good  lawyer's 
remedies,  now  wildly  gazed  around  him. 

"That  voice,"  he  exclaimed,  as  if  to  himself;  "I 
believed  that  she  was  long  ago  numbered  with  the 
dead,  and  yet  it  must  be.  Oh  !  mother,  mother,  I 
am  Dermot  O'Neil,"  he  cried  out  to  her,  "your  long 
absent  son." 

The  widow  rushed  across  the  room,  and  putting 
aside  those  who  kneeled  around  him,  she  threw 
herself  by  his  side. 

"You  Dermot,  you  my  son  Dermot?"  she  ex- 
claimed, looking  at  him.  "Oh,  how  could  I  for  a 
moment  have  been  deceived  ? "  She  bent  over  him, 
and  pressed  many  a  kiss  upon  his  brow.  "Yes, 
those  eyes,  I  know  them  now,  and  those  features, 
too;  I  cannot  again  be  deceived.  No,  no;  see,  here 


THE   RECOGNITION. 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  317 

is  the  sign  by  which  I  should  have  known  him,  even 
though  he  had  been  given  back  to  me  as  I  dreaded, 
a  lifeless  corpse.  But  my  Dermot  is  alive,  my  Der- 
mot  has  come  back  to  me."  As  she  spoke  she 
drew  back  the  sleeve  of  his  shirt,  and  there  upon 
his  arm  she  exhibited  the  blood-red  cross  with 
which  her  son  had  been  born. 

During  this  scene,  the  countenance  of  Lady  Nora 
exhibited  many  changes;  now  a  deadly  pallor  over- 
spread her  face,  then  again  the  rich  blood  rushed 
back  from  her  heart.  Still  she  kneeled  by  Captain 
Denham's  side.  His  strength  gradually  returned, 
and  supported  in  the  arms  of  the  old  fish-wife,  he  sat 
up.  His  face  was  turned  away  from  Nora,  and  his 
eyes  rested  on  the  features  of  the  former.  He  took 
her  hand  between  his. 

"Mother,"  he  whispered,  "I. have  been  cruelly 
deceived.  The  only  letter  I  received  from  my  na- 
tive land  told  me  that  you  were  dead,  and  from 
henceforth  I  felt  the  tie  which  had  bound  me  to  it 
was  severed.  Once  I  returned  to  it,  and  my  fondest 
wish  was  to  visit  again  the  cottage  where  I  was 
born,  made  sacred  to  me  because  it  had  been  your 
dwelling.  I  was  prevented  from  carrying  out  my 
intention,  and  from  that  day  to  this  I  have  never 
had  the  opportunity  of  returning,  but  the  life  you 
have  saved  shall  be  henceforth  devoted  to  watching 


318  Shore  and  Ocean. 

over  you.  I  have  gained  fame  in  my  profession, 
and  I  prize  it,  but  it  is  nothing  compared  to  the 
joy  of  being  restored  to  you.  Oh,  mother,  I, have 
loved  you  as  a  son  should  his  parent  who  has  loved 
him  as  you  have  done  me." 

"Dermot,  my  boy,  dear  Dermot,  I  never  doubted 
your  love.  I  have  always  said  that  you  were  true 
and  faithful,  and  now  you  have  proved  it;  but,  my 
son,  I  shall  not  long  require  your  care.  My  days 
are  numbered;  but  I  knew  that  you  would  come 
back,  and  I  was  not  deceived.  My  prayers  were 
heard  in  spite  of  all  the  threats  and  curses  of  Father 
O'Rourke.  Now  I  have  pressed  you  to  my  heart 
once  more,  and  when  I  have  seen  you  strong  and 
hearty,  I  shall  be  content  to  place  my  head  under 
the  green  turf  and  sleep  in  peace." 

During  this  scene  Lady  Sophy  and  the  lawyer 
had  retired  to  the  further  end  of  the  hut.  Mr.  Fin- 
layson  had,  in  the  meantime,  suggested  to  Shane, 
that  he  might  assist  the  seaman,  who  was  earnestly 
inquiring  for  his  captain. 

"It  is  all  right,"  he  exclaimed,  when  told  that  Cap- 
tain Denham  was  doing  well.  "Heaven  be  praised 
that  he  is  saved,  when  so  many  fine  fellows  have  lost 
their  lives.  We  were  sadly  short-handed  on  board 
the  frigate,  or  I  do  not  believe  this  would  have  hap- 
pened; but  the  gale  was  cruelly  against  us.  Are  we 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  319 

the  only  ones  who  have  escaped  from  the  wreck?" 
"  I  hope  not,"  answered  Shane.  "  I  saw  a  raft 
drifting  towards  the  bay  with  several  people  on  her, 
and  many  more  may  have  been  washed  on  shore  on 
planks  and  spars." 

"Then  we  should  be  up,  and  go  and  help  them," 
exclaimed  Ned  Davis,  endeavouring  to  haul  on  his 
wet  jacket.  "Are  we  to  let  our  shipmates  perish 
and  lie  here  idle  ?  It  is  not  what  the  captain  would 
have  thought  of;  and  if  he  had  not  been  wounded 
he  would  have  been  up  now,  and  looking  out  to 
help  them." 

This  was  the  first  intimation  Mr.  Finlayson  had 
that  Captain  Denham  was  wounded. 

"Why,  that  must  be  looked  too,"  he  observed. 
"  Really,  I  do  not  think  he  can  be  attended  to 
properly  in  this  hut.  We  must  manage  to  get  a 
litter  of  some  sort  to  carry  him  to  the  castle." 

This  remark  was  made  to  Lady  Sophy.  She 
appeared  to  hesitate 

"What  will  Nora  say?"  she  observed. 

"  Say  !  my  dear  lady  !  What  possible  difficulty 
can  there  be  about  the  matter,"  exclaimed  the 
lawyer. 

He  might  not  have  interpreted  aright  the  agita- 
tion exhibited  by  Lady  Nora  on  discovering  the 
parentage  of  the  rescued  officer. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

TT7"HEN,  however,  Mr.  Finlayson's  proposition 
was  made  to  the  fish-wife,  she  at  first  refused 
to  agree  to  it,  declaring  that  her  son  would  recover 
as  rapidly  in  the  hut  as  he  could  in  the  castle;  but 
on  the  lawyer's  assuring  her  that  she  was  mistaken, 
she  consented  to  let  him  be  removed  if  he  wished  it. 

"Let  me  ask  him  then,"  said  Mr.  Finlayson. 

For  after  Ned  Davis  had  vacated  the  widow's  bed, 
Captain  Denham  (for  so  he  must  still  be  called)  had 
been  placed  on  it.  In  the  meantime,  knowing  that 
the  fresh  air  would  benefit  Lady  Nora,  her  cousin 
had  led  her  to  the  front  of  the  hut,  and  made  her 
rest  on  a  bench  which  was  fixed  there.  Sitting 
town  by  her  side,  she  took  her  hand. 

"  Nora,"  she  said,  "  this  is  a  strange  tale  we  have 
heard.  I  can  scarcely  believe  it.  What  do  you 
think  ? " 

"  I  know  not,"  answered  Nora  faintly.  "  But  can 
it  be  possible  that  he  (Captain  Denham  I  mean) 
whom  we  have  known  so  long,  who  is  so  refined,  so 


The  Heir  of  Kil finnan.  321 

high-born  in  appearance  and  manners,  can  be  the 
son  of  this  wild-looking  and  ignorant  fish-wife  ?  and 
yet,  Sophy,  she  claims  him  as  her  son,  and  he  does  not 
deny  it;  and  you  observed  that  mark  upon  his  arm; 
when  she  saw  it,  all  doubt  vanished.  Oh,  Sophy, 
help  me,  guide  me,  advise  me.  What  can  I  do  ?  I 
did  not  know  till  now,  when  I  thought  him  lost  and 
then  had  him  thus  suddenly  restored  to  life,  how 
deeply  I  loved  him.  I  tell  you  this,  dear  cousin,  but 
I  would  not  utter  it  to  any  other  human  being;  but 
what  can  he  be  to  me  for  the  future  ?  My  heart,  I 
feel,  will  break,  Sophy." 

"Trials  are  sent  us  for  our  good,  Nora,"  said 
her  cousin.  "  Once  I  might  have  thought  as  you 
do,  that  unless  his  birth  was  high  and  noble,  equal 
to  your  own,  no  man  was  worthy  to  become  your 
husband;  but,  Nora,"  and  Lady  Sophy  heaved  a 
deep  sigh,  "  I  have  learned  to  prize  a  true  and 
noble  heart;  and  if  such  is  his,  I  cannot  tell  you 
that  I  believe  you  would  be  right  in  discarding  him 
on  account  of  his  birth.  This  is  not  worldly  ad- 
vice; but  I  again  repeat  that  I  believe,  if  he  is 
what  we  have  all  hitherto  supposed  him,  there  is 
not  sufficient  cause  to  refuse  him  as  your  husband." 

Nora  threw  herself  into  her  cousin's  arms. 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  thank  you,  dear  Sophy,"  she 
exclaimed.  "You  are  right.  It  was  a  fearful 
21 


322  Shore  and  Ocean. 

struggle;  but  I  should  have  died  had  I  been  com- 
pelled to  give  him  up.  I  feel  how  cruel,  how  wrong 
I  should  have  been.  I  know  he  loves  me,  and 
what  a  bitter  feeling  it  would  have  caused  his 
noble  heart." 

"  Then,  Nora,  let  me  go  in  and  tell  him  that  we 
beg  he  will  come  to  the  castle.  I  am  sure,  that 
without  your  invitation  he  would  not  consent  to 
be  removed  there." 

"  Oh,  yes,  do,  do,"  exclaimed  Lady  Nora.  "  It 
will  be  dreadful  for  him  to  have  to  remain  here; 
for  his  poor  mother  would  certainly  not  know  how 
to  take  proper  care  of  him." 

While  this  conversation  was  going  on,  Mr.  Fin- 
layson  had  despatched  Shane  and  Ned  Davis,  who 
insisted  he  was  now  strong  enough  for  anything, 
followed  by  Patrick,  with  all  the  ropes  and  spars 
they  could  collect,  to  go  along  the  beach  and  as- 
sist in  the  rescue  of  any  of  the  seamen  who  might 
still  have  escaped  drowning,  and  be  even  now  reach- 
ng  the  shore.  He  himself,  meantime,  undertook 
to  ascend  the  cliff,  and  send  the  groom  back  for 
a  litter  on  which  to  carry  Captain  Denham  to  the 
castle.  At  first,  when  the  proposal  was  made,  he 
declined  leaving  his  mother's  hut,  and  it  was  not 
till  her  entreaties  had  been  joined  to  those  of  Lady 
Sophy  he  consented  to  place  himself  in  their  hands. 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  323 

"  You  would  greatly  disappoint  my  cousin  Nora 
if  you  refuse  to  comply  with  her  request,"  whispered 
Lady  Sophy. 

It  is  possible  that  this  remark  might  have  settled 
the  question. 

"  But  does  she  know  who  I  am  ?"  he  asked  in  a  low 
trembling  voice. 

'•'  Yes,  yes,"  answered  Sophy.  "  Do  you  suppose 
that  to  a  true-hearted  girl  as  she  is  that  would  make 
any  real  difference  ?  Oh,  Captain  Denham,  ask  your 
own  heart.  Would  you  thus  be  ready  to  sacrifice  any 
one  you  loved?" 

"  May  Heaven  reward  her,"  he  murmured. 

His  feelings  seemingly  overcame  him,  for  he  could 
say  no  more. 

A  considerable  time  elapsed  before  the  arrival  of 
the  litter.  Meantime  Shane  and  Davis,  with  their 
young  companion,  hastened  along  the  shore.  Several 
other  persons  having  seen  the  wreck  had  now  collect- 
ed on  the  beach.  A  few,  fastening  ropes  round  their 
waists,  bravely  rushed  into  the  surf  to  assist  in  drag- 
ging the  floating  men  on  shore.  Some,  however,  it 
was  very  clear,  were  more  eager  to  obtain  any  arti- 
cles of  value  that  might  be  washed  up  than  to  save  hu- 
man life.  Many  were  thus  employed  when  Shane  and 
Davis  appeared.  Several  persons  were  seen  clinging 
to  the  masses  of  wreck,  which,  after  having  been 


324  Shore  and  Ocean. 

tossed  about  for  a  considerable  time  in  the  bay,  were 
now  being  washed  ashore.  The  glitter  upon  the  jack- 
ets of  two  of  them  showed  that  they  were  officers, 
and  several  persons,  as  they  drifted  near,  rushed  into 
the  water  to  assist  them,  so  it  seemed.  They  brought 
them  safely  up  the  beach,  but  no  sooner  were  they 
there,  than,  instead  of  rendering  them  further  assist- 
ance, they  began  to  rifle  their  pockets,  and  to  take 
their  watches  and  the  rings  from  their  fingers.  Da- 
vis caught  sight  of  them  as  they  were  thus  so  eagerly 
employed  as  not  to  observe  his  approach.  He  dashed 
forward,  and  with  a  blow  of  a  broken  spar  which  he 
had  seized,  he  knocked  aside  two  of  the  wreckers,  and 
so  ably  did  he  wield  it,  that  he  put  the  rest  to  flight 
before  they  could  secure  their  booty.  The  rescued 
officers  were  two  midshipmen  of  the  ship,  and  their 
first  inquiry  was  for  their  commander. 

"He  is  all  safe,  sirs,"  exclaimed  Davis.  "Heaven 
be  praised  for  it,  but  he  was  very  nearly  gone;  how- 
ever, it  will  not  be  long,  I  hope,  before  he  is  well 
again.  It  has  been  sad  work;  not  a  third,  I  fear,  of 
our  poor  fellows  have  come  on  shore." 

"Not  so  many,  I  am  afraid,"  observed  one  of  the 
midshipmen;  "however,  now  we  are  safe  ourselves, 
let  us  try  to  help  others." 

Several  of  the  better  disposed  of  the  people  now 
joined  themselves  to  Shane,  and  prevented  the 


The  Heir  of  Kit 'finnan.  325 

wreckers  from  continuing  their  barbarous  proceed- 
ings. A  raft  approached  near  the  beach,  and  though 
perhaps  none  on  it  would  have  been  saved,  had  they 
not  had  assistance,  by  the  aid  of  the  strong  body  of 
men  who  rushed  into  the  water,  all  were  safely 
landed  before  it  had  the  opportunity  of  turning  over 
upon  them.  Many  dead  bodies  were  cast  ashore, 
and  they  were  gradually  collected  and  placed  side 
by  side.  There  were  officers  and  men,  and  several 
poor  boys,  and  a  few  of  the  marines.  The  survivors 
were  undecided  what  to  do  when  Mr.  Jamieson, 
who,  hearing  of  the  wreck,  had  come  down  to  the 
beach,  invited  them  to  the  vicarage,  and  the  bodies 
of  the  drowned  were  conveyed  by  his  direction  to 
the  church.  Before  the  shipwrecked  men  had  pro- 
ceeded far  towards  the  vicarage,  a  messenger  over- 
took them,  from  Mr.  Finlayson,  with  a  request  that 
they  would  all  come  to  the  castle,  to  which  their 
captain  was  now  on  his  way.  Every  preparation 
was  made  for  their  reception.  The  medical  man  of 
the  neighbourhood  was  also  sent  for,  that  he  might 
attend  to  the  captain  and  others  who  might  have 
been  injured.  Fortunately,  the  surgeon  of  the  frig- 
ate had  also  escaped,  and  he  was  at  once  able  to 
look  to  the  captain's  wound.  Lady  Nora  felt  a 
strange  satisfaction  at  having  all  those  belonging  to 
the  frigate  thus  collected  beneath  her  roof.  She 


326  Shore  and  Ocean. 

had  a  trial  to  undergo;  it  was  when  at  length  the 
Widow  O'Neil  desired  to  speak  to  her. 

"Oh,  Lady  Nora,"  exclaimed  the  old  woman,  "I 
have  discovered  what  I  little  thought  of.  My  bon- 
nie  son  loves  you,  lady.  It  may  be  presumption  on 
his  part,  and  it  makes  me  feel  more  and  more  that 
I  am  not  worthy  to  be  his  mother,  but  I  am,  believe 
me,  his  true  mother.  It  seems  strange  that  the  son 
of  one  like  me  should  thus  have  gained  such  a  name 
as  he  has,  but  there  is  one  thing  I  would  tell  you, 
lady,  I  know  my  days  are  numbered.  You  will  not 
have  the  old  fish- wife  as  your  mother;  if  I  thought 
so,  I  would  gladly  take  myself  away  where  you 
would  never  see  or  hear  of  me  more.  I  would  not 
stand  between  you  and  my  son  for  all  the  world  can 
give.  You  will  not  send  him  from  you,  lady  ? " 

"Oh,  do  not  speak  thus,  Mistress  O'Neil,"  ex- 
claimed Nora,  rising  from  her  seat  and  taking  the 
widow's  hands  in  hers.  "  I  do  not  deny  that  I  love 
your  son,  for  long  I  have  done  so,  though  only  this 
day  have  I  discovered  how  deeply  I  loved  him.  My 
delight  and  satisfaction  will  be  to  save  you  from 
any  further  toil  and  trouble.  You  have  ever  proved 
a  loving  mother  to  him,  and  it  shall  be  our  united 
happiness  to  care  for  you,  and  to  shield  you  from 
all  the  troubles  and  hardships  to  which  you  have 
been  so  long  exposed.  We  will  have  a  suitable 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  327 

house  prepared  for  you  and  your  brave  brother 
Shane  and  his  son,  where  you  may  live  in  comfort 
without  toiling  any  more  on  the  treacherous  ocean." 

"You  speak  like  a  true  and  noble  girl,"  exclaimed 
the  widow,  "  and  now  there  is  a  secret  I  have  got 
to  tell  you.  If  my  son  had  not  been  restored  to  me, 
it  should  never  have  passed  my  lips,  but  I  have  long 
had  in  my  keeping  some  papers,  preserved  in  an 
iron  case.  It  has  been  hidden  under  the  floor  of  my 
hut,  for  I  believe  there  are  those  who  would  deprive 
me  of  them  if  they  knew  where  they  are.  Alas,  I 
could  not  read  them  myself,  but  he  who  has  gone, 
the  father  of  my  boy,  bade  me  carefully  keep  them. 
To-morrow,  lady,  if  that  good  gentleman  who  is 
with  you,  will  come  with  the  steward  to  assist  him, 
I  will  place  the  case  in  his  hands.  If  you  had  not 
confessed  to  me  what  you  have  now  done,  that  my 
son  is  dear  to  you,  I  believe  the  contents  of  that 
box  would  have  caused  you  much  annoyance  and 
pain,  but  now  I  feel  it  will  only  make  you  glad." 

Lady  Nora  would  thankfully  have  obtained  more 
information  from  Mistress  O'Neil,  but  she  either 
would  not  or  could  not  give  it. 

"  In  a  few  days  I  trust,  in  God's  mercy,  my  son 
will  have  recovered,  and  then  it  may  be  time  enough 
for  you  to  examine  the  papers  in  the  case,"  she  an- 
swered. It  was  with  difficulty  that  the  old  woman 


328  Shore  and  Ocean. 

could  be  persuaded  to  occupy  a  room  in  the  castle. 
She  consented,  however,  to  do  so,  when  Shane  pro- 
mised to  return  to  the  hut  and  take  charge  of  it  till 
the  next  day. 

The  following  morning  Mr.  Finlayson  set  forth 
accompanied  by  Mrs.  O'Neil,  for  her  cottage;  Shane 
was  watching  for  them.  The  widow  sent  him  for 
a  spade,  and  some  minutes  were  employed  in  dig- 
ging, before  the  promised  box  was  discovered,  so 
deeply  down  in  the  earth  had  she  hid  it. 

"Ah,"  she  observed,  as  her  brother  was  working, 
"  it  was  Father  O'Rourke  who  had  an  idea  of  this 
case,  and  I  could  not  tell  what  use  he  might  make 
of  it,  if  he  ever  got  hold  of  it,  and  he  who  has  gone 
charged  me  never  to  let  it  pass  out  of  my  hands." 

At  length  an  iron  case  was  brought  to  light, 
which  Mr.  Finlayson  attempted  eagerly  to  open. 

"  I  have  never  seen  the  inside  of  it,"  observed  the 
widow,  "and  I  do  not  know  either  how  to  get  at  it ; 
but  don't  look  at  it  here,  Mr.  Finlayson,  carry  it  to 
the  castle,  where  you  may  look  into  it  at  your 
leisure." 

Mistress  O'Neil  having  a  few  arrangements  to 
make  before  leaving  her  hut,  promised  to  follow 
Mr.  Finlayson  to  the  castle.  The  lawyer,  on  his 
arrival,  after  examining  the  case  for  some  time,  not 
unaccustomed  to  the  various  devices  employed  for 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  329 

such  purposes,  discovered  the  spring  by  which  it 
was  opened.  The  whole  evening  was  employed  by 
him  in  looking  over  the  documents  with  which  it 
was  filled,  but  he  declined  for  the  present  to  ex- 
plain their  contents  to  Lady  Nora,  assuring  her 
that  they  were  somewhat  complicated,  and  that  un- 
less he  had  examined  them  thoroughly,  he  might 
mislead  those  whom  they  chiefly  concerned.  To  no 
one  else,  indeed,  did  he  divulge  their  contents  for 
several  days ;  by  that  time  Captain  Denham  was 
once  more  able  to  appear  in  public.  Several  guests 
had  been  invited  to  the  castle,  Mr.  Jamieson  and  his 
niece  being  among  them.  They  were  all  assembled 
in  the  drawing-room,  when  the  lawyer,  as  the  cap- 
tain entered  the  apartment,  went  up  to  him  and  in 
a  significant  manner,  took  him  by  the  hand. 

"  I  have  to  congratulate  you,  my  dear  lord,  on 
obtaining  a  rank  of  which  you  are — " 

"  Do  you  address  me  ?  "  exclaimed  Captain  Den- 
ham  with  surprise.  "What,  my  dear  sir,  do  you 
mean  ?  You  do  not  intend  to  mock  me  ! " 

"  I  mean  that  you  are  the  lawful  Earl  of  Kil- 
finnan," answered  the  lawyer  in  a  positive  tone,  as 
if  his  word  had  been  called  in  question.  "  Although 
the  elder  members  of  your  family  were  deprived  of 
the  right  to  assume  the  title,  as  long  as  another 
branch  existed,  I  have  sufficient  evidence  to  prove 


330  Shore  and  Ocean. 

that  in  your  generation  the  attainder  has  been  re- 
moved. Your  father,  the  husband  of  the  devoted 
woman  whom  you  have  always  known  as  your 
mother — as  she  truly  is — was,  while  living  in  the 
character  of  a  fisherman,  drowned  off  this  coast. 
He  was  the  grandson  of  the  former  Earl." 

Captain  Denham,  or  rather  the  new  Earl  of  Kil- 
finnan,  cast  a  glance,  beaming  with  happiness  and 
satisfaction,  towards  Lady  Nora. 

"  Yes,  indeed  our  kind  friend,  Mr.  Finlayson,  is 
not  mistaken,"  she  said,  taking  his  hand,  "  and 
though  you  know  full  well  my  dear  lord,  that  had 
it  been  otherwise,  I  had  promised  to  become  your 
wife,  yet  I  rejoice  to  know  that  you  can  feel  yourself 
with  regard  to  rank  in  every  respect  my  equal." 

It  is  not  necessary  to  describe  the  happy  mar- 
riage which  afterwards  took  place.  The  Widow 
O'Neil  enjoyed  the  comfort  and  luxuries  which  had 
been  prepared  for  her  by  her  affectionate  children 
but  for  a  few  months.  Her  nervous  system  had 
received  a  shock  it  never  recovered,  in  the  exer- 
tions she  made  in  rescuing  her  son,  but  she  had 
the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  she  had  saved  his 
life,  and  that  he  was  restored  to  the  position  his 
ancestors  had  enjoyed.  He  did  not  neglect  his  no- 
ble friend,  Ned  Davis,  who  continued,  as  before, 
his  constant  attendant,  and  ultimately,  when  he 


The  Heir  of  Kilfinnan.  331 

gave  up  the  sea  and  came  to  live  on  shore,  rose  to 
the  rank  of  his  head  bailiff.  Mr.  Jamieson  and  the 
kind-hearted  lawyer  both  lived  to  an  old  age,  and 
soon  after  her  uncle  was  removed  from  her,  his 
blind  niece  was  laid  to  rest  in  the  churchyard  by 
his  side. 

Father  O'Rourke  went  plotting  and  scheming  on 
to  the  end  of  his  days,  and  if  he  did  not  die  in 
the  odour  of  sanctity,  having  partaken  of  all  the 
rites  of  his  Church,  no  qualms  of  conscience  that 
he  had  not  exactly  fulfilled  the  duties  of  a  mission- 
ary of  the  gospel,  seemed  to  have  disturbed  his 
last  hours. 


FINIS. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


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